


Secret: Part I

by RieWiggles



Series: Stories of the Wastelanders: MacCready Arc [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Adventure, Chem Use, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Minutemen, Prostitution, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RieWiggles/pseuds/RieWiggles
Summary: Introduction of Karlie MiKayla Quinn. In 2287, months before Nate searches for his son, Karlie's removed from her tranquility lounger and sold into prostitution. When she becomes an apprentice, Karlie meets Nate in hopes of uncovering a ring. With Shaun being so close in his hands, Nate sends Quinn with his most notorious but talented mercenary.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Quinn had a voice actress, it would be Ashly Burch (Chloe Price- Life is Strange; Aloy- Horizon Zero Dawn, & Tina De Luca).
> 
> The purpose of the plot element of human trafficking is to raise awareness. Not many people are able to get out. It's a devastating effect on both the families with missing children and even more so to the victims (especially those with horrible families who have introduced them into such a mess).

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**October, 2077**

* * *

 

Washington DC was nothing like Karlie wanted. In fact, her place was always to the mountains, to Colorado. The Fall day was rather warm, much to Karlie’s disappointment. It was going by rather slowly. She was always impatient. The morning breeze bit into her face. The weather was warm. The morning slowly passed. The only thing that wasn’t meant to fly so quickly was her fixation to Grognak the Barbarian, her favorite issue: In the Lair of the Virgin Eater. Grognak was always an escape from her father's constant complaining. Comics kept her sane. They kept her secure, and safe.

Karlie donned a black and white polka-dot shirt, that tucked in to waist-high red jeans. Her flats almost flew out the window as her feet were not in them.

Karlie MiKayla Quinn started school quite late, after the abrupt move in the beginning of the month. Her father had rules. She was to be home right from school, they were always together, and her parents were the only ones she had to trust. She couldn't have friends. She couldn't see boys. The move to DC suited her just fine; she didn't care for the other teenagers.

Bernard Quinn wasn’t the same after the war, that even continued on to October 23, 2077.

Back in 2072, Bernie was stationed out, prompting Karlie and her mother to move from city to city. Karlie wasn’t used to structure. Everything was meant to be packed weeks or months from arrival. One place, however, that Karlie absolutely loved was Colorado. The young woman dreamed of hiking the mountain trails to eventually even owning her own horse. The peace and calm of the mountains definitely contrasted the loudness and density of Washington D.C.

The day when Bernie returned from war changed the family of three. He moved them straight to DC. The first thing Bernie did was acquire a room in a Vault, specifically Vault 112. Considering his status, as a retired Lieutenant, Bernie was given a spot right from the time upon return to the United States. After doing so, the trips to Smith Casey’s Garage became more and more frequent. Karlie was not fond of spending her time there, perhaps even full days. It felt like her life wilted away, becoming as withered as the dark oil that would seep through the door to the garage.

One thing that Karlie shared from her father was her lack of listening skills. Karlie hated to listen to her father. She hated direction. One thing was clear however: despite their strained relationship, Karlie shared so much with Bernie, from his hazel eyes, to the freckles, to even the “piggy nose,” as her mother would call it. She had his stubborn personality and short temper. That was partially why they didn't get along; the father-daughter duo was more complicated, and perhaps, even separated for most of the time. When they weren't fighting, Bernie was always teaching Karlie new things, even things he learned in the military. When they did fight, however, the strain would pulsate and throb for hours, even days.

As the wind forced her ginger hair to slap her face, Karlie lost focus of the book and more to her subconscious. Karlie MiKayla Quinn was easy to irritate. “Dad, please, roll the window up!” Karlie insisted. The knob was unfortunately broken. A sudden turn prompted Karlie’s lips to curve into a sarcastic smile. “We’re almost there!” she then whispered with annoyance. Before the next turn to the last road, Bernie’s hazel eyes met the radio. He turned it up to hear the message.

“There have been confirmed reports of explosions in-“

The radio kept cutting out within each deep sound of force.

Bernie hit the gas. Quinn's comic almost flew out the window. Her hair traveled just outside the glass.

* * *

 

After the sudden jolt of the car gave way, the ignition died down. Bernie kicked the door out from his side, as Karlie and her mother both slammed theirs shut. With only the Grognak book in her possession, Karlie was escorted first into the mechanic shop. After a run behind the counter from the owner, the family of three was escorted into the ramp of the garage. The sub-level lowered further down. As sounds of massive booms was heard outside, everyone inside the Vault began to scream in horror. They were suddenly calmed by an older figure. After the man introduced himself, most specifically as Dr. Braun, a few Vault-Tec scientists urged every family to separate. Two hallways were sectioned specifically for certain families. Karlie was first greeted by a young woman, who introduced herself as Martha Simpson. Her optimism allowed Karlie to calm down. Bernie escorted Karlie and her mother down the nicer hallway of the two. Behind them, it suddenly closed. From the sounds from the outside, it occurred to Karlie that the door may have possibly been hidden from future encounters.

After changing into her Vault Suit, Karlie clutched her book, holding it as tightly against her chest as possible. She was disoriented. Everything happened so fast. The young woman made her way into a room filled with “beans,” as she called them. In [reality], they were loungers, that looked like they came from a Sci-Fi film. A Vault-Tec scientist encouraged Karlie to make her way to the closest lounger. Obviously, despite the events happened way too fast, the idea of getting into the “beans” seemed extremely shady. Karlie at least had a moment to think that whatever happened. Of course, her father wasn’t faring well with the shady idea as well, and was asking questions regarding it. The scientists assured him over and over that it was solely for examination and health records.

"Health records? Bullshit. You have my records!"

"Lieutenant, we need you to calm down. We have to do further examination to determine your daily consumption needs."

Karlie stepped inside. She felt a lump in her throat. She looked to her father, who reluctantly got inside. Her mother was already asleep, possibly dreaming. As she began to feel herself drift off, Karlie took one last look to her parents, before entering a dream-like simulation.

* * *

 

**2277**

* * *

 

Shijuku Samara, at the time, was the most notorious figure of The Capital Wasteland. Her name popped up everywhere, from bars, to even bar fights. The young woman definitely was a name in the books, most solely for her influence to majority of political figures.

Shijuku decided to make her way to Smith Casey’s Garage to scavenge for supplies. Her new plan to make caps was definitely a little _out there,_ but she’s never been stopped to that point. After coming across the controls for the Vault, she suspected a small bit of detail that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Shijuku managed to open a “secret” passage to a wave of Tranquility Loungers. Her initial plans were to collect information on the loungers, then using them to exploit each inhabitant. However, upon reading instructions, Shijuku decided against it. Their lives were important for her plans.

Shijuku spotted Karlie Quinn’s lounger. With a new plan in mind, Shijuku curled a smile before leaving the vault.

* * *

 

**January, 2288**

* * *

 

Karlie was instantaneously brought to a world of static followed from a regular lunch day. Her mind went black, with just that static sound.

Karlie woke up in what looked like a dressing room. With further inspection, everything was torn. Even the bed she was tied to was torn. She was unfortunately too weak to break free. In the corner of her eyes, a woman entered the room. The figure donned a burgundy corsette, and sported bleach blond hair. She was obviously Asian, as her natural color bled through the shaved areas on her head.

“Awake now? Good. The sooner you can start your work the better.”

Karlie also had her mouth covered by duct tape. She felt gross on the inside. In addition, she definitely could feel the torn fabric under her bare back. She was naked.

Karlie’s worried hazel eyes met the woman’s dark, dark brown irises.

“My name is Shijuku Samara,” she started. “You now work for me. No complaints are allowed. All the caps you earn go to me. Any additional ‘members’ will be brutally removed from the premises.”

Her mind spun. Her head hurt. Her body sent a mixture of signals to justify that her situation was indeed not great.

_"Welcome to The Brothel." I am your headmistress and master._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**If Quinn had a voice actress, it would be Ashly Burch.**

* * *

**March, 2277**

* * *

 

Every single day since waking up in the dressing room had ended as a nightmare. It began as a nightmare. It was a nightmare. It wasn’t just the psychological trauma that Karlie and the other girls faced. It was the additional physical trauma that held down the emotional baggage even more. Karlie lost count on how many men have had their way with her. She was constantly bought for a certain amount of time, returned soaking in fluids that were sometimes not even her own. It was her life for a few months. It began with tears, and it ended in tears.

Suddenly, some bit of hope helped her cope.

Chems began to make their way into the Brothel. It was the generosity of a young man, perhaps a slaver, judging by his lovely clothing. Women spread the chems out like wildfire. Karlie definitely had her way into getting Jet, hoping it would help end the nightmares. When she learned that it only slowed time down in her eyes, she resorted to adding more chems. Mentats made her tired. With Mentats and Jet, she began to care less and less of what the men did to her.

_One day, however, Karlie accidentally received a dosage of Psycho._

Karlie had no idea what it would do. She was the first to receive it. She suspected it was never spread in the area.

One March night, a rich bastard, portly, older, and who curled an even uglier smile than others, bought Karlie to be his escort for the night. He made himself into the bed, albeit struggling. Karlie had taken a shot of Psycho without him even looking.

The man barked orders. She reluctantly obeyed, falling to her knees.

Her expression had left after a few weeks of being in The Brothel. At first, she was afraid. She was in distress. After chems made their way in, however, her world eased.

The Psycho kicked in.

Karlie just sat there on the floor. The man barked his orders again.

Just a hint of his voice set her off.

Karlie lunged to the man, dragging him out of the bed. She screamed. She wailed. She grabbed the nearest wine bottle. She shattered it. Karlie then easily overpowered the man, repeatedly stabbing him, over and over, as her hands began to soak in blood. More screams escaped her lips as she mutilated his face beyond recognition.

When Karlie came to, she didn’t remember a thing. She just remembered that she was covered in blood, and was staring straight into red mush. Behind her, was Shijuku. The older woman was rather impressed.

“You’re promoted,” she said, placing a hand on Karlie’s shoulder.

* * *

 

**September, 2277**

* * *

 

For two months, Shijuku rigorously trained Karlie on ways to survive the Wasteland. Karlie had no idea what she was facing, although she was satisfied to know that she was no longer pleasing strangers. The first few days, Shijuku left the ginger to fend off from ghouls and molerats. Later on, she was taken to Vaults, and was forced to take out Centuars. Each session was harder and even more exhausting. The day that Shijuku broke to her that she was ready, the young girl was so anxious to get to her first mission.

The excitement was that Karlie knew she was leaving the Capital Wasteland. On the down side, Shijuku threatened her, say she wasn’t to return.

_You mess this up, your parents are going to go through a lot of hell._

The word of “parents” hit Karlie in the gut. Her parents were the only ones alive out of any girl in The Brothel. Shijuku made sure to kill everyone those girls knew, that way they had no place to go. To the ginger, her method was just  _inhumane._

Her trip to Boston was extremely difficult. In fact, difficult was a light way of putting it. With nothing but a few stimpacks and a 10mm pistol, Karlie had no choice but to follow the codename that Shijuku gave her:  _Kimi._ Secret. She was to keep her identity a secret. After all, one snap of a twig, and her neck would be next.

* * *

 

**November 2287**

* * *

 

“Dogmeat, over here, Boy!”

Karlie watched in amusement. She was tempted to kill the man. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that he had a dog. “He’s such a good boy,” she whispered, over and over again. One thing that the ginger wasn't able to resist was animals. She was a huge animal lover, to the point that if her family had not relocated so often, she would have volunteered to help them.

She loved animals, even dangerous ones.

Dogmeat suspected her. The canine rushed up to the pile of rubble. He sniffed, before growling. The man raised his weapon towards the hiding figure. “Out!” he yelled. His tone was nowhere near friendly. Karlie felt like if she rose from the rubble, he’d put a bullet between her eyes. She wanted to escape, but an object that he donned on his wrist prevented her from making any further moves. "Out!" he yelled again, firing a shot into the rubble in front of her.

The young woman emerged, with her hands up.

“That was a little too easy. You better not have people with you!”

“I don’t, Sir!” Karlie said sarcastically.

“I can shoot you, Kid! Don’t forget that.”

Karlie was escorted by the dog. She placed her hands behind her partly shaven head. Whatever was not shaved, such as the ponytail she donned, pressed against her palms. Karlie sighed. “Are you going to feed me to some Deathclaws now?” she asked.

“Depends. You going to send people after me?”

“Depends.”

The man scoffed. He frisked Karlie quickly before removing her weapon. He double wielded it with his own. “You’re coming with me,” he said in a stern voice.

* * *

 

When nightfall hit, there was no place to go other than under a bridge near Starlight Drive-in. The area wasn’t quite cleared out. The man decided to sneak his way into the diner, prompting Karlie to follow. Dogmeat kept himself low to cloak himself from attention. When the three made their way to the top of the diner, the man made camp. He urged Karlie to sleep on the sleeping bag that was occupied by a skeleton. The man made a spot on the platform out the door. “May I ask what your name is?” she asked, moving the bag down by him.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, clearly you’re having me stick around long enough to know.”

The man shrugged.

“My name’s Nate. I came from Vault 111.”

“That’s a little obvious.” Karlie paused for a moment, then sighed. “I came from Vault 112.”

“Vault 112? Where is that?”

“Capital Wasteland. I was there since before the war.”

The man scratched his head. Karlie definitely didn’t look like she was from a Vault. She donned a ripped burgundy coat, a green camouflage tank top underneath, a belt that was held down by pouches, and ripped dark blue jeans. Her combat boots were tattered and ready to rip down from her heels.

In addition to her rags, Karlie was heavily covered in makeup. However, the makeup didn’t cover the scratches she received from killing the man months before. Her face was ripped from her left cheek to below her lips. She was caked in heavy burgundy eye shadow, with the additional heavy eyeliner. Her lip gloss gleamed with the moonlight. It pronounced her full lips, that were covered by the cleft of her chin. Karlie donned piercings on her ears, from her lobes to cartilage. Her ginger hair was shaven in exception to a ponytail that flew with the wind.

“I'm called 'Kimi' where I'm from, but my real name’s Quinn. Karlie Quinn.”

“Wait a second!”

Nate got up from his spot. Dogmeat grew worried, piercing his head towards his owner. “You were here before the war. Was your father Bernard Quinn?”

“How did you know?” Quinn's mouth suddenly dropped.

“How do I know? I saved your father’s life! Is he okay?”

Karlie suddenly felt a lump in her throat. “I don’t know,” she shakily replied. In fact, in the Capital Wasteland, Karlie didn’t even know how to get to Vault 112. The world was so different. Hell, even her own home was gone, blasted away from the bombs. Nate stretched before sitting down. He sighed. “Look, Kid,” he said softly. “Why don’t you help me out? I’m looking for my son. He was taken by someone.”

The Sole Survivor then reached into his holster before handing Karlie’s 10mm back to her. She was surprised that he suddenly trusted her.

“I have a few people helping me out, but an additional person definitely helps. Maybe we can figure out how to help Bernie in the meantime.”

Karlie sighed. “It’s Quinn,” she said, first acknowledging that Nate called her “Kid.” She placed her gun in the holster attached to her ripped jeans. “I hope you find your son,” she said softly.

* * *

**December, 2287**

* * *

 

Quinn’s mission was reaching the deadline. While on the run one day, she tugged at Nate. “Look, I know you’re looking for your son,” she said softly. “Could you just hear me out here?”

“I’ll make time for you, Quinn.”

“I appreciate it.”

Over the month's time, Quinn traveled with Nate, and began to trust him based off the decisions that he made. He was stern, however, he was also honest and humble. The man knew how to please those around him, but at the same time, he knew how to get what he was looking for.

Quinn began to tug at her fingers, before a long sigh escaped her lips.

“Look, you’re looking for Shaun. I know it’s hard, and you’re getting so close! Kellogg is dead. The Brotherhood of Steel are in town. Things are going to be better.”

“We’ll see, Quinn. I'm not fond of the Brotherhood.”

“I get it." She looked down.

"Look, Nate. I’m on a mission. I need to get what I came here for and ship my way back to the Capital Wasteland. If you could just send me with someone, anyone, to help me get what I need, I’ll be on my way.”

Nate’s first thought was his buddy Detective Extraordinaire: Nick Valentine. However, due to Quinn’s nature, and knowing the sarcastic, crass teenager that she was, he was sure that Quinn and Nick wouldn’t get along at all.

_One other person came to mind._

* * *

 

It was Quinn’s first time in Goodneighbor. Instantly, after seeing all the misfits and troublemakers, she truly felt a connection to the place. Despite the fact that the area had a pungent scent of urine, she knew the people were the kinds she would get along with. Nate escorted Quinn to a door, leading down into a subway. They were quickly greeted by a rather dashing ghoul, by the name of Ham. “Nathan, Hancock speaks highly of you,” the ghoul said, rather admirably.

Upon making their way to the bar, Nate still had Quinn’s hand in his. They entered a room labeled as V.I.P.

Quinn never felt as a very important person, however, she knew that Nate was rising up to that rank.

In the corner of the room as a young man, seemingly in his twenties, sipping on a warm beer.

“Nate, it’s been awhile.” His smooth voice rang through Quinn’s ears. She became anxious.

Approaching Nate was the face of a rather slim figure. His eyes were almond shaped. His nose was rather straight, hard-edged. His lips curved in many directions, even more so with his smile. When he opened his mouth, the stench of alcohol and other immensely putrid consumables burned through Quinn’s nose.

_If he cleaned up a bit, maybe he would be pretty good looking._

“MacCready. I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Yeah, anything. After all, you did get rid of Winlock and Barnes for me.”

“Well, after this, that card’s been taken up as even at this point.”

Nate grabbed MacCready’s shoulder, escorting him to the other end of the room. Quinn slightly heard the whispers. She grew impatient. The young woman took a seat on a red, torn up couch.

“Look, I know this girl. She needs someone to help her find something in Jamaica Plain.”

“Oh, don’t tell me she believes in that treasure scam!”

“No. She doesn’t. This is for her boss. She needs something that she was given some important coordinates to. If you can get her there, all debts are cleared.”

MacCready scoffed. “You’re making this too easy, Nate.”

With that, The Sole Survivor began to leave. Quinn worriedly grabbed his hand. “You’re just going to leave me here?” she asked worriedly, eyes almost tearing up. She didn't trust the other man in the room. He didn't seem like the most trustworthy type just from first impression.

“Look, Quinn, I know the guy. He knows his way through the Wasteland. He’ll help you figure this out.”

With that, Nate left the bar. Quinn kept looking at the door, until the man was out of sight. Behind her, MacCready was sipping on the rest of his piss-water. “You want to leave tonight or tomorrow morning?” he said in a rather harsh tone.

Karlie sighed.

“Tomorrow morning. You don’t seem like you’re sober.”

“You’re right about that.” MacCready let out a small sigh, before continuing his beer.

The mercenary cracked his neck before making a spot on the nearest couch. “You should probably get some sleep, Girl.”

“It’s Quinn.”

“Quinn. Get some sleep.”

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the pictures, Quinn has a Pipboy. I don't have the PipPad mod as later on Pipboys will be making a role.

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**December, 2277**

* * *

 

The morning was nothing like Quinn remembered. The world wasn’t snowy like she loved during the time of the year. Christmas was on its way, but instead, her gift was getting a ring that wouldn’t go directly to her. Quinn and MacCready both headed onto the road, making their way South to Jamaica Plain.

She didn’t like to follow the roads. She preferred to hide in the rubble and foliage. MacCready, on the other hand, definitely didn't prefer the latter. An argument started, which went through about halfway, attracting all enemies in the area.

“See, MacCready? What did I tell you? Being on the road is an ambush!”

“Try riding caravans, Babe.”

Quinn took out the last Raider of the road-infested camp. At the time when the gunfight took its final bullet, dusk was already setting in. The two looked at each other, before deciding to make the Raider ambush their own camp.

Unfortunately, during the fight, a chicken fell victim to the crossfire. That was fine to Quinn, as she didn’t mind eating chicken. She wasn’t used to the other animals becoming consumables. As the duo made a resting spot on two sleeping bags, the ginger turned her head and sighed. “So, I overheard that you owed Nate some debt.” MacCready knew she was trying to spark conversation. He just didn’t like the idea of her knowing his business.

“That has nothing to do with you. What’s between me is only between me.”

“Shit, Dude, I was just trying to make conversation. Do you always have a stick up your ass?”

MacCready wasn’t in the mood for it anyways. He figured once Quinn found what she was looking for, that they would part ways and never see each other again.

“Nate told you about my Dad, right?”

“Again, that’s for you to know.”

Quinn scoffed. “You’re really not the talkative kind, are you?”

“Do I look like it?”

She scoffed. MacCready scanned the scope of his weapon, only to be disappointed that it was broken. He sighed, before arching back. Quinn closed her eyes, and let out a big yawn. While her lips were curled into what seemed like a tiger’s yawn. MacCready reached into his pack and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“May I have one?”

“Seriously?” She was really getting on his nerves.

“I really need one.”

MacCready rubbed his temples before reaching for an old lighter. Disappointed that the oil was gone, Quinn pulled out a box of matches. She handed it out. As he reached for it, she pulled back. “If I give this to you, you better share it with me,” she threatened, finally handing over the box. She sat down next to him, as he took a huff. He reluctantly passed the stick to her. She took a huff, and rubbed her eyes. “Look," she began, attempting to be civil, "This ring is really important to me. I really need to get it back as soon as possible. My ass is really on the line.”

“You do know there probably won’t be a ring, right?”

Quinn scoffed. She finished her huff, before making her way back to the bed. "If there isn't, then there isn't." She closed her eyes, and quickly drifted away. MacCready finished the cigarette, before he rubbed the butt on the nearest corpse. He made his way to the sleeping bag, before he drifted off himself.

* * *

 

MacCready was woken by Quinn preparing to head off. Jamaica Plain wasn’t far from their location. The mercenary wished to put in a few minutes of shut eye. Irritated, he quickly grabbed his belongings. When they got to the town, ghouls infested the area. “Plan?” he asked before turning to her. The young woman curled her lips. “Let’s not over-complicate this,” she started. “Run, and shoot. Run and shoot. Make our way into the building there, then keep running and shooting, and find the door to the treasure place, or, uh, placey.”

“Do you even have a map?” The man pursed his lips into a thin line. His eyebrows curved. He was impatient.

“What did you think I had, a GPS?”

“Pipboys have that.”

“Well, I didn’t get a fucking Pipboy from my Vault!” Quinn was in a whisper, albeit harsh on the tone.

The two ran towards the ghouls and began throwing all their ammunition. Quinn aimed for the legs to slow them down, while MacCready aimed for heads. Once they got into the building, a Bloated One made its way down the stairs. The duo began shooting some more, slowly making their way into a basement corridor area. “Door’s right here,” Quinn said in relief.

_The door was locked._

“Shit! We need a key!” Quinn yelled.

MacCready finished the Bloated before groaning.

“You don’t know how to pick a lock?”

“What do I look like, a car thief?”

“Well, technically-“

Quinn groaned. She made her way back up the stairs before looting the bodies. When she finally found the key, she snuck her way back down. “Assuming I don’t hijack _your_ car, or if you prefer, _keying_ it,” she began, sarcastically, as she started unlocking the door, “there better be a goddamn ring down here.”

* * *

 

The room after opening the door was so bright, both began to cover their eyes. Making their way through the blind forest of folding chairs, the duo came across a control room. “There’s an ID card on the top of the console,” Quinn noted. MacCready grabbed it and scanned it through. It didn't work. None of the lasers shut off, nor did the turrets shut down. “Well, we tried, round up, good work, let’s go back,” MacCready said in a satirical tone. The young woman, frustrated, groaned and then aimed her gun to one of the trip alarms in the hall before them. “Uh, Quinn, you might want to reconsider-“

Quinn shot the alarm. Three laser turrets began to fire.

“Were you fu-freaking dropped on your head?” MacCready yelled, frustrated. The woman shrugged before firing at one of the turrets. Once she hit its barrel, it combusted. Rather impressed with herself, Quinn whistled. She blindly held her other hand out and shot the next turret. MacCready managed to destroy it, however, as she missed. The third time firing, she also missed. MacCready managed to take the third one out, too.

“Quinn, I swear to freaking God, if you shoot crap like that again…” MacCready groaned, as the young woman continued down the corridor. As she made her way down, her middle finger went up towards his direction.

In the next room were two Protectrons that were locked up, and a console. Quinn messed with the computer. “We need a password,” she said. Quinn was growing tired of the obstacles. MacCready scoffed with a slight chuckle following. “Quinn, I bet you all of this is for nothing. You’re not going to find anything, the whole place is a sham and waste. Let’s just go already.” After he finished his bit, the mercenary sighed when the ginger found a folder containing the password. However, he raised his gun at the sound of the alarms, which also included the two protectrons being released. “You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” MacCready yelled in a very tired, yet frustrated tone. Once the duo took out the machines, they ran into the treasure room. As music filled the sound of the room, Quinn approached the front desk that contained a terminal, a few holotapes, and other doo-dads. MacCready laughed again. “What did I tell you?” he said in a smartass tone. The ginger, not paying attention, fell to her knees. “It’s got to be here!” she said frantically. The young woman ran her fingers through every inch of the desk, moving onto the floor. Quinn finally felt something stick from under the red rug. The young woman, concerned, rolled the rug before uncovering a safe. “MacCready, how much did you bet?” Quinn retorted, with an extremely satirical tone and a wicked curl on the corners of her lips.

* * *

 

As the duo left the building, Quinn held the ring tightly into her hands. She then placed it into one of her pouches. “Well, since I have what I needed, I guess it’s time to head back to the Capital Wasteland,” she noted. MacCready turned to her, before scratching his head. “What is this ring for, by the way?”

"My boss."

"Why did she send you and not herself and her men, then?"

"It's complicated."

Quinn started to walk away.

"Hey!" MacCready then called, pulling her arm. She almost grabbed her gun, but instead, turned around, visibly frustrated.

"Instead of paying your thirsty boss, why not just sell it?"

"Will you buy it?"

"I could uh, take it and sell it for you." She knew what he was catching to. MacCready knew that was a lost cause, but it didn't hurt to try.

After all, he didn't believe the ring existed, but after leaving with it, he wanted it for himself. Quinn, however, knew damn well that if she turned her back, he probably would have shot her and taken it. She kept her eyes peeled and gun cocked.

The next day, she decided to sell it.

“Look, Quinn, I know you can make some good caps off of that. You sure you’re taking that out to the Capital Wasteland?”

Quinn rubbed her eyes. Her makeup smeared through her cheeks.

“I’m selling it.”

“What are you going to do with all those caps?”

Quinn sighed.

“Mercenaries. Like your painful ass.”

“Have you really thought this over?”

“I thought you weren’t the type who wanted to ask questions or provide answers? You also suggested this!”

MacCready kept his mouth shut after. As the duo made their way back to Goodneighbor, MacCready stopped Quinn in her tracks.

“You don’t want to take that to Goodneighbor.”

“I don’t want you touching it either. You might want to step back.”

MacCready noted that Quinn had her hand near her gun. The man took a step back, hands almost up. He was about to take the ring, and she definitely caught onto that. He sighed, before cracking his neck.

“I’m done with you. Go back to Goodneighbor.”

MacCready rubbed his eyes. He then gave a small wave to the young woman before he turned East.

Karlie held the ring tightly in her pouch. She slowly walked towards Diamond City, pulling out her 10mm in the process.

* * *

 

“Ma’am, are you lost?”

“If you don’t step away your circuits are going to be lost, Buster.”

Wellingham hovered away from Quinn as she approached the people of the Upper Stands. All except a lovely woman in a blue dress cringed at the woman’s presence. Quinn made a seat next to them, crossing her legs. She arched her back. She wrapped her left arm around the back of the chair. “Listen here, you Luxurious Swine,” Quinn began. All quickly gasped, before talking among themselves over her language. “I’m not finished,” Quinn called out, slightly louder than her initial tone. “I got a ring. I need caps. If any of you would be willing to provide, I’ll be willing to negotiate.” After rubbing her eyes again, smearing her makeup again in the process, Quinn reached into her pocket. She pulled the ring out. “Hidden object in Jamaica Plain,” she said. “Along with it is some shitty letter I found that contains the signature of the owner. Stephan Bridges. Some Boston Politician of 2077.” Once the woman presented the ring, all the occupants of the Upper West Stands looked to her in amusement. Quinn groaned as they began to talk among themselves. “List a price,” she demanded. Quinn's attitude was due to the fact that she had a raging migraine, in addition to being surrounded by people who definitely weren't within her standards, as she wasn't theirs. When they didn’t comply, she raised her voice. “List a price!” she yelled. She was tempted to pull her gun, when suddenly, a man of dark skin stood up.

“I’ll give you five thousand caps. Take it or leave it.”

Quinn’s lips curved to a smile.

“You have a deal. Give me those caps, take this thing, and I’ll get the hell out of here.”

When her pouches filled with the ringing of bottlecaps, Quinn rubbed her eyes, before giving the people of the Upper Stands the finger.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**February, 2288**

* * *

 

“I swear you guys made a mistake!”

“Proctor Quinlan checked it multiple times.”

Nate felt weak over the news he’s heard. Granted, he was making in a place in hoping to establish peace. At that moment, when he’s learned that one of his best brother-in-arms is the enemy of The Brotherhood, just for who he is, Nate’s heart dropped.

“This is not up for debate!”

Unfortunately, Quinn was also present, as she was the one who helped Nate recover Liberty Prime’s nukes.

Her blood began to boil.

She wanted to say something, but knew she would be shot. Instead, she turned around, and made her way off the ship. Nate didn’t notice, as he was stuck in his own self-grief.

* * *

 

“Robbie, please!”

“I told you, give me the caps, and I’ll help save that Bag of Bricks.”

Whether it was the pungent smell of testosterone and power armor grease, or simply just the idea of where she could have been, Quinn instantly took a liking to Paladin Danse, or perhaps, an _obsession._ MacCready obviously didn’t take this very well, which strained their partnership as well as friendship. He never cared about the guy. He always felt that Danse was just some hardy boy who took his Soldier Business seriously.

“Listen to me, Babe. I hate the guy. Always did. He can rot in a ditch for all I care. Whatever business he had with the Brotherhood isn’t my problem.”

With that, Quinn punched the mercenary square in the nose.

MacCready didn’t pay attention to the blood gushing out. He instantly pounced the young woman, pinning her to the floor. He began to choke her, drool escaping from the rotted teeth as it fell to her face. Quinn tried desperately to break free, before her knee went the wrong way up, and went square in between his legs.

The ginger broke free from his hold as the mercenary fell to his side. She wiped his drool from her cheeks, before yelling “Don’t you EVER touch me again!” With that, she began to run off. Once MacCready regained his composure, he chased after her, but was unable to catch up.

* * *

 

**March, 2288**

* * *

 

It was the day for the Institute to face its fate. In front of Quinn was a gang of the best mercenaries around the Commonwealth, including that of Robert Joseph MacCready. In fact, he was always the one to give her advice of the mercenary business, mercenary ethic, mercenary _everything._ Taking his advice to heart, as of knowing his success, she was able to have a very strong gang. Unfortunately, since the night in The Third Rail, however, their communication was separated by a thick, brick wall.

With Quinn’s obsession with Danse coming into play, soon the great mercenary gang, The Chu’Si, would fall as well.

However, with the help of her gang and The Railroad, The Minutemen made their way head-first into The Institute. One commotion after another, she wasn’t too focused on her own gang, rather than her life. She always stayed in the back, just as MacCready did, providing external fire if needed.

Not everyone evacuated via teleportation. The Chu’Si came out the way they came in. Covered in Hazmat suits, they met near Slocum’s Joe, which was no longer a minefield. All began to pop out their bottles to celebrate, when suddenly, the explosion occurred. The smoke emerged right out of the CIT Ruins. Radiation took place, however, the smoke caused everyone to hack rigorously until they put their helmets back on.

After The Institute was destroyed, The Chu’Si decided to make their way to The Castle to continue their celebration. MacCready heard word about most of them considering on joining The Minutemen. Whether it was admiration, or perhaps redemption, he wasn’t fond of hearing about it. The only one who didn’t follow them back was their own leader. While he was upset about the young woman, his curiosity ate at him as to why she was never present.

* * *

 

**April, 2288**

* * *

 

“I’m disappointed in you, Sentinel. Very disappointed. You’re spending your time helping The Railroad, who feel synths are in fact humans.”

“That’s because you’re wrong about that, Maxson. Not all Synths are enemies. Not all ghouls are enemies for that factor. There are even Super Mutants who have regained their humanity.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Yeah, I am. And you know what? Your Brotherhood is a regime. You’re committing mass murder.”

Before Maxson was able to order an execution on Nate, the General had already escorted himself from the ship. The man rubbed his temples. He was greeted by his other, a devoted Soldier named Kelles. “Launch an attack on the Castle,” Maxson ordered.

* * *

 

Luckily, the Minutemen were able to prepare from the Vertibird attacks. The only question was how to strike back. Nate confronted Preston on the matter. “If we use the artillery, we may have a chance on bringing the blimp down.” Quinn overheard the conversation, and came up with her own plan.

* * *

 

Before the Minutemen even made their way to strike the Prydwen, Quinn disguised herself as a soldier before making her way into the ship. With a dagger in-hand, she entered the cockpit, slowly creeping on Maxson to make her strike. Quinn had her gun holstered in case she needed to use it. The commotion from the preparation of the attack was a great distraction to take Maxson out. She noticed his minigun being prepped, which made her heart drop.

Nonetheless, the ginger quickly jumped on the man’s back, stabbing repeatedly. Maxson flipped her over, before taking her dagger. Quinn tried to get up from the hard blow of the floor. Maxson grabbed her by the neck, dragging her to the window. “You’re that kid with the makeup,” Maxson noted, despite she was no longer caked. She desperately tried to break free. Using the same method she used on MacCready, her leg went up. She was able to quickly gain her composure as the man curled into a ball. Quinn took out her pistol. She shot a bullet into his shoulder. Due to the gun having a muzzle, no one was able to hear it. Another shot was fired, which went into his abdomen. The last, final shot, went to his head.

Quinn gathered his jacket, before slipping her way out of the ship. By the time she made it out, it was just seconds before the artillery was fired.

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's (GRE in June, Baby). I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**April, 2288**

* * *

 

Quinn, having been wounded by some Gunners on her way to Listening Post Bravo, still managed to make it. Once she saw a sight of two figures, her heart dropped once she realized that one of them was Scribe Haylen. During the war between The Brotherhood, Haylen managed to fake a KIA in order to stay with Danse. She cautiously raised her weapon to the young woman. Danse urged her to lower it, and approached the teenager. She presented him a jacket. It instantly hit Danse: Maxson was killed.

The jacket was torn from the stab wounds and eventually, the bullet holes. Danse poked his fingers through the torn fabric. “Who did this?” he said, rather angrily. Quinn looked down. It then hit him: she was the one who killed Maxson.

“Get out of here.”

Quinn looked up at him, as tears began to flow down her cheeks.

“I said get out of here! Don’t even bother showing your face again.”

* * *

 

**July, 2288**

* * *

 

For the three months that have passed, all that Quinn could remember was the stool she always sat at, and all the tap booze she drank. Whitechapel Charlie became a good friend, in addition to Magnolia. Of course, Mags was the one to offer comfort. She wanted to be that big sister figure to the young woman, and served as a greater influence.

In addition, Magnolia confronted Hancock and MacCready about the young woman’s drinking.

MacCready tried to not care. He desperately tried to not lay a hand on Quinn since the last time he has. His anger from what happened still didn’t die out. Hancock, on the other hand, tried to get Quinn to get off the stool and to cause some havoc. She still stayed. She didn’t move.

Some days, she passed out on the counter. Other days, she passed out next to the counter. Not once did Quinn make her way to Hotel Rexford to just rest.

One day, however, she managed to move from her spot. Quinn blindly made her way up the stairs, and out of the subway station. Her feet dragged through the dirty streets of Goodneighbor. She was making her way to The Memory Den, for an unknown reason.

As she was halfway there, she was suddenly grabbed from behind. The one who grabbed her forced a rag over her mouth. When the chemicals made their way through her nostrils, she passed out. Quinn didn’t get to see who the men were, but somehow, her heroes were somehow following her, only to witness what happened.

Hancock and MacCready quickly sprang to action. It didn’t take much to take the men out, however, that was probably due to their lack of time to collect their weapons.

* * *

 

Quinn instantly had a headache the moment she came to. After looking around, she realized that she was in the VIP room in The Third Rail. Propping herself up, Quinn made note that the ripped red couch she was on was the most comfortable couch in the world.

“Mind explaining to me who those men were?”

Quinn quickly moved her eyes to MacCready, who just sat in the nice Victorian chair in front of her. He sipped a beer. The young woman cracked her neck to adjust and pump some adrenaline through her system. The mercenary emerged from his chair, soon approaching Quinn. “Again, who were those men?”

“I didn’t get to see them,” Quinn called out, groggily, as she grabbed MacCready’s bottle. She took a sip herself.

“They were wearing ski masks.”

_Quinn’s heart dropped._

“Ski masks?”

“Yeah. Those damn things make me shudder.”

Quinn quickly got up from the couch. She was suddenly pulled back, only to realize that she was handcuffed. “Oh, yeah,” MacCready began, “Since you tend to run away a lot, Hancock and I made sure you wouldn’t this time.”

“Fuck you,” Quinn said, yet again in a groggy tone. The mercenary made a seat next to her. He rubbed his nose. “You know, now that you definitely have an interesting backstory, I’m curious to hear it.” His lips curled to the most mischievous smile. Quinn shuddered, and then sat back. “All you need to know is that I need to get out of here.”

“Oh, ho ho ho. No way you’re leaving. You decide you want to run off, I’ll be hot on your tracks, Babe.”

The young woman rubbed her temples. MacCready took the bottle from her, before finishing the last sip.

“Clearly, a lot of people here care about you, and it’d really hurt them for you to disappear and never be heard from again,” he said, solemnly. “So I have an idea. You’ve been sitting here for the past three months, drinking yourself ‘til you piss yourself. You need to blow off some steam. You and I are going on a small trip tomorrow.”

Quinn definitely didn’t look forward to traveling with MacCready again. At first, she figured he wanted payback for her kicking his balls in. The second thought is that he wanted to use the remaining caps she had then leave her in a ditch. The truth was that the caps were long gone. The gang broke up when she used her remaining caps to buy drinks. She was broke, and MacCready certainly didn’t care for broke people.

The next day, the duo set out and took the main road north. About halfway through to their destination, they came across an ambushed caravan. As the duo looted for provisions, Quinn found something that intrigued her.

She grabbed a green tank top from a deceased courier before making her way to the nearest bush. “What the hell are you doing?” MacCready asked, suddenly turning his head. When he looked over, Quinn was already practically naked. She slipped a black bra on, before fitting through the tank top. It was rather long on her, but once she strapped her pouch-belt on, it worked. Quinn then removed the ponytail in her hair, allowing the growing shaved bits to hide under the layered ginger hair. “I figured I needed to change,” she said, rather sternly. As the young woman emerged from the bushes, she grabbed a pair of goggles that he had in his hand.

Further down the road, the duo found a workbench. Quinn urged MacCready to bring his dirty ass over. “Found some liner,” Quinn noted. One thing that MacCready hated was the lack of comfort that lining offered. He passed on the offer. Quinn groaned, as she got to work on a scarf, before tossing it over. She attempted to allow it to slide through his head, but instead, it knocked his hat off. “You slippery little-“ MacCready started before Quinn gave him a mischievous grin. He groaned, reluctantly accepting his gift.

"I'm putting it on but I'm not taking the other one off." He pointed down to the aqua scarf that was tucked into his duster.

"How come? It's hella hot out!"

He refused to answer.

* * *

 

The duo made their way to what looked like a hospital. “This is the place,” MacCready noted. The outside was infested with ferals. “Are you bringing me here to kill me?” Quinn whispered in a rather harsh tone, before taking out a few ghouls who noticed her. MacCready shrugged. “You’ll find out.”

* * *

 

After rigorous descending from level-to-level, the duo managed to override the security lockdown of Medtek, albeit Quinn was extremely irritated by how long MacCready took to type in the password. As they caught their breath in the elevator, the mercenary took off his hat, before wiping the sweat off his forehead with the help of his forearm. When the door opened, the mercenary stretched a little bit. “Smells like we’re the first ones to be down here in a long time,” he noted. The duo cautiously made their way even further down, although having to fight their way with more ghouls and even turrets. When they got to a locked door, he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his body. “This is it,” he whispered.

“This is it? What is it?”

MacCready messed with the terminal. Alarms began to go off as the door opened. The duo was greeted with the presence of a few ferals and a Glowing One. Although the ferals weren’t much for Quinn to take out, The Glowing One eagerly chased MacCready around the operating area. It knocked him over, causing a radiated burn across his clothing, soon to burn through his side. He fell to the ground, still firing. At that point, he began to care less for his well-being.

Quinn managed to take the rest of it out. Despite receiving a “thanks,” from MacCready, her aim caused him to keep his bottom firmly planted to the ground. “Care to tell me why I’m here?” Quinn angrily demanded.

He didn't budge.

"Answer me!"

He sighed. MacCready reached into his coat, and shakily held out what looked like a vaccination. The mercenary looked down.

_“I needed your help.”_

“You? You needed my help? What the fuck is that?”

“Look, Quinn, my son’s sick. I-I don’t know what’s wrong with him. One day he’s playing in the field outside our farm, the next he took a fever and blue boils popped up all over his body.”

Quinn lowered her weapon. “You have a son? Why haven’t you told me this?”

MacCready got up, using the counter to help his balance. Quinn instantly jumped to action, assisting him. The man looked down before placing it into his pouch. “I didn’t tell you this because you’ve been too focused on not telling me where you’re headed. I didn’t think you cared.”

“Dude, that's a sick kid. Of course I care!”

It felt good to hear her say that.

MacCready brushed the dust off his duster before stretching a little. “What’s the next step?” Quinn asked in a soft voice. The man looked at her with worried eyes. It hit her how important the whole mission was.

“The next step is to get this to Daisy in Goodneighbor. With her caravan contacts, she’s the only one who I trust to get this to Duncan.”

“Let’s go, then.”

As the duo began to make their way to the elevator across from the operation room, Quinn began to realize that maybe there was a heart in there after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's (GRE in June, Baby). I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**July, 2288**

* * *

 

The duo made their way to Goodneighbor as fast as they could. Once they entered the gates, MacCready practically zoomed over to Daisy. Quinn was just about out of breath when she got to the shop.

“I did it, Daisy! I found the cure to Duncan’s disease!”

“Oh my God! That’s wonderful news! How did you do it? The last time you tried, the ferals almost chewed you to bits.”

“I didn’t do it alone. Quinn here got me through Medtek.” Quinn stared at the mercenary, suddenly feeling some kind of remorse. She felt terrible that MacCready went through so much just to save his son. She also felt terrible for underestimating him, for treating him rather harshly.

“Now, all I need to do is to get the cure into Duncan’s hands. Can you help me?” His voice was solemn, yet pleading.

“Of course, MacCready! You’ve saved my behind more than once, this is the least I could do!”

Daisy turned to Quinn. Although she was a ghoul, her sweet eyes were enough to make the two bond. Daisy definitely saw the terror and sentimentality that Quinn carried on her shoulders. “It’s okay,” the ghoul began, “You can trust me. I swear I’ll get the cure to Duncan.”

Quinn definitely saw that out of all people in Goodneighbor, Daisy had the purest soul.

 

“I know you can, Daisy.” Quinn genuinely smiled for the first time in a really long time.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll get the sample on the first caravan leaving the Commonwealth. The driver owes me a few favors, and he’s reliable.”

_“It will arrive in your homestead in no time, MacCready.”_

Quinn noticed that for the first time she’s been around MacCready, his shoulders became less tense. “Thanks, you’re a doll.”

Quinn definitely could tell that he was about to tear up. As quick as MacCready gave his last phrase, he quickly made his way out of the shop. Quinn was about to chase after him until she heard Daisy’s voice again.

“Listen, Quinn,”

She turned around. Daisy still had her sweet eyes planted into the same expression she showed, but somehow, she looked like she was as pleading as MacCready.

“Do me a favor. Take care of MacCready for me. He’s one of the good ones.”

* * *

 

Quinn didn’t expect MacCready to be sitting back in The Third Rail, especially when he just completed his mission in The Commonwealth. Quinn, however, tried not to care. After all, The Brothel was after her, and if they found out MacCready was traveling with her, they’d not only go after him, but also Duncan.

Quinn counted her ammunition before getting ready to head out. The mercenary suddenly stopped her. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

Quinn sighed.

“Just, stay here. I don’t need you to get hurt.”

With that, Quinn began to walk towards the stairs. She heard MacCready’s voice, but tried to the best of her ability to not pay attention to it.

* * *

 

Quinn’s way to the border of the Commonwealth wasn’t much of a trip. As long as she stayed out of everyone’s way, they stayed out of hers.  As she began to make her way Southwest, a Caravan happened to be stuck in the mud. Quinn unfortunately was unable to save the Brahmin as it drowned. The rain was rather harsh, and the air felt tense. “A Radstorm’s coming,” The ginger quietly said to herself. She made a spot inside an abandoned building, letting the radiated storm to pass through.

She marked her map as it mentioned that Bridgeport was an empty and hopeless case. She was stuck there for the night. As she rolled her sleeping bag, Quinn arched her back, hoping to get a little shut eye before she made her way out again.

Once morning hit, she quickly gathered her things, before making her way back on the road. The air was foggy, but nonetheless, misty. She loved the mist. She especially loved it in Colorado. She suddenly reminded herself of the beautiful mountains, the hills, the _air._ Everything was fresh in the mountains. As Quinn made her way even further down to Stamford, the air became more tense, even to the point it was hard to see twenty feet away. She tried to move slowly, but surely towards her destination. The woman managed to cut from the back of the buildings, as Stamford was covered in Deathclaws. She almost made it out, before she heard one yell its blood-curdling battle cry from directly north of her. She thought it noticed her. Quinn quickly ran, attempting to escape, before she slid down a large hill, into the closest bush she could find. “I’m not here,” she shakily whispered. The Deathclaw began to look around, before giving up after a few minute search. Quinn sighed before moving on.

* * *

 

**August, 2288**

* * *

 

The cross from Manhattan to Jersey was a pain. Not many boats really worked. The ones that did were too big to row. Quinn desperately looked for a way to cross, as the bridge was occupied with Raiders. She knew she couldn’t handle them on her own.

“Just remember how I got here,” she said out loud, before looking for the last boat she used.

The last boat was washed off a block away. Quinn figured it was taken over by a rough storm. She had to drag the boat to the shore. By the time she got it there, she was too exhausted to move on.

Quinn made a spot next to the boat, before searching her pockets for a cigarette. She used her last match in the box. With each huff, the tensions slowly eased. She was so tempted to drink some of the radiated water from the river. “Just poison myself and go. Fuck that bitch. You won’t have to go back,” she said out loud, huffing again. In the end, she didn’t drink the water, but instead set the boat back in, and made her way to the other side.

Once she made her way there, she was suddenly met by raiders. The Raiders in Manhattan weren’t like the typical ones in The Commonwealth. They were deadlier, more desperate, perhaps, even thirsty for slow death. One grabbed Quinn’s arm, as another grabbed her legs. At that point, she really didn’t care. She certainly didn’t want to go back, but if she was dead, her parents would have had it much worse. They were the only ones who kept her screaming, and attempting to kick herself free.

From the distance, Quinn heard shots and screams. She figured it was the gang taking out other captives. However, when the gang made their way into the camp, she noticed the mass amounts of corpses that were painting the ground. Suddenly, the man who held her legs suddenly collapsed. The one who held her torso had soon collapsed once she gained her balance. When her mind came-to in terms of adjusting to the situation, Quinn realized that during that black-out, all the other raiders were suddenly killed.

A figure made his way down from the Raider outpost. Quinn instantly recognized the smug grin and ripped duster.

“God dammit, Robbie!” she yelled.

“Hey, it looked like you needed help.”

Quinn began to loot the bodies. She was rather angry by the fact that he was following her.

“Go home, Robbie.”

The mercenary scoffed.

 

“Where exactly are you going?”

She really didn’t want to tell him. Quinn got up and gave a look at the mercenary. He surely looked the same that he did before. His blue irises focused on her hazel irises. His grin dropped to a look of confusion. His lips pursed to a thin line. The corner of his lips dug snug deep into his cheeks.

“I’m not saying. You’ll follow me.”

MacCready took a seat in the closest lawn chair. He took out a cigarette.

“Listen, Karlie, you helped me save Duncan. Wherever you’re going, I’m going.” He yawned before continuing. “Clearly I’m gonna be stuck with you no matter what. And now that you’re annoyed by my presence, I’m going with you.”

Quinn scoffed.

“You called me by my first name.”

“Get used to it, Babe.”

MacCready got up from the lawn chair and searched one of the dead raider’s pockets. He pulled out some bottlecaps. He then proceeded to make his way over to some chests and boxes, before looting for more supplies. “I live outside the Commonwealth, but not quite around these parts. Maybe you’ll meet Duncan soon.”

Quinn scoffed again.

“Surely your wife will be thrilled that you brought me with.”

The mercenary sighed. He rubbed his nose.

“Lucy’s been gone for a long time.”

Quinn didn’t hear the last bit. She was too hooked on a bottle of wine that she found.

* * *

 

**August, 2288**

* * *

 

The duo made their way to the edge of the Capital Wasteland. Coming from the Northeast portion, they cut through to Oasis. “This was the place I was talking about,” MacCready said softly. “I just really wanted you to see it.”

“Robbie, I have to get back!”

“Karlie, look at me.” MacCready suddenly leaned over the woman, eyes locking onto hers.

“You’ve been gone for months. I’m pretty sure they’re not going to throw a fuss if you just spend a day around some trees.”

MacCready urged Quinn to go through the gates. She was greeted by cultists, those who worshipped the trees. “What did I tell you? It probably brings you some memories of the old times, right?”

Quinn was astonished by the sight. It had been over two hundred years since she’s seen healthy trees.

“Robbie, how did this place get like this?”

“Ask the big guy.”

MacCready escorted Quinn to what looked like a tree, but also a man.

“Hey, Harold.”

The tree startled Quinn with his voice.

“MacCready. The last I’ve seen you, you were here with the caravans.”

“I’ve had quite a journey, Harold. This is Karlie.”

“Call me Quinn,” she interrupted him, much to his chagrin.

The tree opened its eyes. She grew very curious as to how Harold managed to become a tree, let alone was able to allow flora and fauna to flourish.

“MacCready and I have a… mutual friend,” Harold noted. Quinn nodded. “He helped me find a new way of life. Have you met this _friend_?”

The ginger shook her head.

“If MacCready likes you, his friend will like you.”

Harold gave Quinn a seed. She looked back up into his eyes, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She had no idea why she was crying. Maybe it was because the world actually had some green? Maybe it was because she knew that the experience wouldn’t happen again?

“Please bring the seed to our mutual friend. He has a mission.”

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**August, 2288**

* * *

 

Paradise Falls hadn’t changed since the last time Quinn was there. She took a deep breath before moving from the spot behind the rocks. “Wait, Karlie!” MacCready called, pulling her back. “If they find out you’re alone, they’ll take you in.” Quinn shook her head. She pulled her arm away from his.

“I live here, Robbie. I’m in The Brothel.”

“The Brothel? You were-”

Quinn was about to get up again before MacCready held her down again.

“Listen, I have an idea,” MacCready blurted.

She was perplexed. The mercenary was not letting her return to slavery. Even if she came in with him, they wouldn't buy that she was his. Nonetheless, the ginger decided to hear him out.

* * *

 

“She’s mine,” MacCready shouted to the guard as Quinn was held to him by one cuff through her hand. He had her pouch and holster wrapped underneath his torso. He held her 10mm with his other hand. He had her goggles to further confirm that she was just a slave, as shown by the mass amount of dirt and the ripped tank top.

“You may go in,” The guard said softly, escorting the duo. Quinn was surprised that the plan actually worked. She would’ve expected question considering the pattern on her cargos. In addition, they should have recognized her. Once the duo made themselves through the secondary gate, Quinn whispered to MacCready to take a right. “The Brothel is in a theater building. Shijuku touched it the year before last.” MacCready grunted to confirm he understood. Once the duo made their way to the building, it looked rather emptier than usual.

The duo slowly entered the building, to see it covered in all kinds of rubble. Quinn grew cautious, and urged him to make a disguise. She suddenly ripped off her clothing, placing it into a trash can near the front, as she handed MacCready the uniform of the guards. He reluctantly put it on, and gave a revolted look over the smell of the ski mask. The duo made their way into a gathering room, which Quinn explained was a room for the girls to gather before being pulled for work. She noted that the room was the big area for the chem imports and exchange. When she opened the door, a few girls were in the room, one still awake, and worried, and the others being drugged and passed out. The girl suddenly stood still in the sight of the MacCready’s uniform. “It’s okay,” Quinn whispered. “It’s me. Kimi.”

The girl nodded. “What about the man?”

“Her mercenary,” MacCready replied, still in a whisper. He stood guard at the door.

The girl came up to the ginger woman. The brunette suddenly grabbed Quinn's shoulders, before whispering, manically, “Why are you back, girl?”

“I have no choice.”

“Yes you do!” the girl whispered, almost in a yell. “You have that mercenary, right? Fight with him.”

“Regina,” Quinn was suddenly cut short by the woman in front of her.

“They went to Vault 112. At Smith Casey’s Garage. You said you know the way after reaching a certain point, right? Well here’s a map.”

Regina handed Quinn a small map. She sighed.

“Just promise me after you get your parents, that Shijuku ends up dead. That the assholes who hurt us die. They deserve it.”

Before Regina moved Quinn and MacCready to the entrance, Quinn whispered, “I promise.” MacCready heard the conversation while guarding.

They redressed. The ginger's promise stuck to the mercenary like glue. He was the kind who knew that they were meant to be kept. On the other hand, he saw that Quinn didn't want to do so. The reason why left him puzzled.

As the duo made their way outside, they continued down an alley. They were suddenly “greeted” by a few Brothel guards.

“Kimi. You know Shijuku’s looking for you, right?” The man in the back had a thick accent.

“It would be a shame for you to not come home. We miss you, Sweetie.”

Quinn backed into MacCready.

“Got yourself a bodyguard?”

MacCready suddenly held Quinn’s gun towards the men. He knew pretty well that they were lucky had he pulled the trigger, as a muffler was attached.

“Oh, come on. There’s three of us. You’re going to take care of three of us?”

“Oh, right, I’m not very popular around the Capital Wasteland,” MacCready retorted, before pulling the trigger.

Behind MacCready, were two other guards, who both tried to grab him. Two other men grabbed Quinn, pulling her by the hair and arm. They threw her to the ground. As tears began to well up from her eyes, her blurred vision was soon covered in dirt. With her eyes closed, one of the guards climbed on top of her, attempting to remove her tank. “Let me tell you something, Girl,” the man said as he tried to unbuckle his belt. Quinn tried to break free from the other man who held her down by her arms. “You had your chance to not have this again. You blew it. Now we all get to have fun with you agai-“

Suddenly, the man who held her down was shot through the eyes. He slumped forward, on top of her. The other man, the one who almost raped her, was pulled with his pants falling to his knees, as MacCready pulled a knife from his holster. When Quinn pulled over the man who bled on top of her, she witnessed MacCready slit the other one’s throat. The blood splattered, getting onto her clothing and speckled with her freckles. The body fell forward, next to her, as it continued to emit red.

* * *

 

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing for us to talk about!” Quinn's voice was shaky.

“I don’t give a shi- er, crap! We’re talking!

MacCready cuffed Quinn’s hand after the incident. He didn’t cuff her for the disguise. He cuffed her to keep her from running away. The mercenary entered the barracks, as he made his way up the stairs. Over the course of ten years, the barracks were converted into an area for slaves to “have a good time” with their slavers. That’s what the slavers thought MacCready was doing, noting by her tears and the blood that was splattered all over her face and clothing.

MacCready locked the door behind them, holding the key into his pant pouch. He pulled out a handkerchief. The mercenary approached the woman, wiping the blood and tears from her face. She was still shaky, sniffing as he rubbed the content from her freckled cheeks. “Why are they after you? Does that have to do with the ring?”

It wasn’t the fact that she was attacked that scared Quinn. That wasn’t the reason why she was crying. Over the course of the past month, traveling with MacCready alone changed things. She didn’t look at him the way she used to. Before, his smug grin would make her turn her head in disgust. After traveling with him, and hearing his stories as a mercenary, his deal with the gunners, his leadership in Little Lamplight, his grin made her heart skip a beat.

_Now that they know he’s with me, they’re going to kill him._

MacCready tried to calm himself down in order to get an answer. He was angered that she didn’t tell him the whole story. All he knew was that she was in The Brothel, all taken in just from entering Paradise Falls. She didn’t tell him much of where she came from otherwise. He heard by rumor that she was a Vault Dweller, to which, was confirmed true by Regina.

 _It’s funny._ MacCready thought it was too coincidental that he was around Vault Dwellers. Hell, he even grew up near a Vault. He met The Lone Wanderer when he was just twelve. He was a mayor of a small settlement only occupied by children. When he turned sixteen, he left. The Lone Wanderer was always there for him otherwise. He never trusted _Mungos_ growing up, but he trusted James.

When he traveled to the Commonwealth, he met The Sole Survivor. Nate was the one who hired him to find his son. After all, Nate took out Winlock and Barnes. In addition to having a good heart, he also shared that family nature with MacCready. Nate was a family man, definitely. The mercenary admired that he would kill the most ruthless mercenary in The Commonwealth just to find Shaun.

Karlie Quinn, on the other hand.

He saw her as weak. She was just some young girl who was taken to Paradise Falls. That was all he knew.

He knew she was hot-headed. She had an attitude, just like he did. She was bitter, showed little emotion when on the road. However, when showing her emotions, she always showed the wrong ones. All he saw of her was that she was depressed, afraid, angsty, the top three emotions that would get people killed in the Wasteland.

Somehow, however, what kept her alive was her instincts. She was definitely smart, that went without saying. However, she also knew how to sneak her way out of a situation, depending on what it is.

_But through all the time he found her, she was trapped._

Quinn recollected herself before taking a seat on the bed. She sighed. “I was taken from my Vault. I was forced to… do things.” She began to tear up again. MacCready took a seat next to her. He didn’t know what to say. He figured, in a Brothel, people definitely did, well, expose themselves. They did things. But he never really found a good reason for sex, other than to prove to someone how they felt.

MacCready was a womanizer, no doubt. He knew his way to flirt with the ladies. Had he gone further than that? Definitely not- MacCready was too much focused on Duncan and doing what he could for his son to the point that he never considered if he wanted anything like that. The last person who really shared that kind of intimacy was Lucy. She was gone- long gone.

MacCready rubbed his eyes. “How did you even get there?”

“I-I don’t know. I just remember going into those bean things at the Vault. The next thing I remember, I see my parents, and I spent each day living off of some false reality. Regina told me that I could have had a dream. It didn’t feel like a dream.”

_“When I actually woke up, I was tied down in a dressing room. All I know is someone raped me before then. I felt…”_

MacCready held his hand up. Quinn stopped. He got from the bed, taking his handkerchief out from a bowl of water. Quinn sniffed a bit before she let out a shaky sigh.

“Shijuku Samara’s the name of the owner.”

“Shi-what-a-ca?” MacCready’s mouth dropped.

Sniff. “She’s some Japanese woman, or at least her family is or was.” Quinn looked down, then back up at him. Her lips pursed to a thin line, as the corner of her mouth dug itself snug into her cheek. A second sniff occurred after a few seconds.

“So your parents are in Vault 112?”

“As far as I know.”

“Then whatever-her-name-is is there. Why is she waiting for you?”

“You know why. After all, you helped me with the ring.”

MacCready closed his eyes before nodding. _Right._

Quinn got up before yawning. “Just go home,” she said softly.

The Mercenary sighed.

“I’m not doing that.”

“You have a wife and son. If Shijuku finds out that you’re helping me, they’ll kill them.”

Of course, Quinn didn’t hear that Lucy was…

“Karlie,” MacCready said before getting up. “Lucy… died a few years back.”

Quinn stopped herself from grabbing the pouches from the now-hanging Duster.

“We made the mistake to hole up in a metro station one night. We didn’t know that the place was infested with ferals.” MacCready gave a small shaky sigh.

“They were on her before I could fire a shot. Took everything I had to escape with Duncan in my arms.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Robbie.” Quinn wrapped the pouch belt around her hips.

Quinn forgot that MacCready had the key. She grabbed the goggles from the bureau next to the bed.

"But regardless, I have to go. I'm sorry about what you've had to deal with, but I've got my own shit." Her voice was stern.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere unless I’m with.”

Quinn scoffed.

“Why are you so persistent with following me? This has nothing to do with you, and you’ll quickly end up taking a dirt nap.”

MacCready rubbed his eyes.

“You saved Duncan, Karlie. This is the least I can do.”

“Robbie-“

“You saw me take out all those ass-er, those jerks in the alley. They weren’t much of a hassle. They’re goons, just like whatever-her-name-is!”

Quinn wasn’t convinced. She was becoming more irritated. She just wanted to make sure her parents were okay. The ginger rolled her eyes, and suddenly pounced MacCready, trying to grab the key. He was easily able to overpower Quinn, pinning her to the bed. In the candlelight, she saw how worried he was.

“You know, if you still had that gang of yours, you would have easily overpowered them.”

“And I fucked up! I know!” Quinn was almost yelling. Her voice was shaky, as tears came down her cheeks, to her ears.

“All this would have been over. Your parents would probably be in Sanctuary now.”

“My Dad could’ve been helping Nate with the Minutemen.”

MacCready backed away and off the bed.

“Why are you so persistent?” Quinn asked, wiping the tears. MacCready went to the bowl of water, before cupping two handsful, and splashing it over his face. He didn’t care that it was covered in blood.

“What do you want me to tell you, Karlie?” MacCready swallowed and cleared his throat before looking at her. His tongue rested between his top and bottom rotting canines.

_“I don’t want to lose you.”_

Quinn had a hard time absorbing that sentence. She didn’t hear herself slip a “what” between her lips. MacCready rested his left forearm against the bureau, as his right elbow made a spot on top of his fingertips. The mercenary cupped his hand around his eye socket, as his fingers trickled over his forehead. He was exhausted. Quinn slowly got up, before she made her way to the corner of the room. He heard slips of fabric, but didn’t pay much attention to it. He then felt a hand on his shoulder.

_“Just do what you want and just go.”_

Quinn was unclothed, covering her breasts with her arms. MacCready turned around. He wasn’t disgusted to see her, but he was digusted to see that she was vulnerable and _sick._ Granted, she wasn’t extremely sick, but he knew she suffered from severe anorexia, judging by the ribcage that scratched against her skin. Quinn sniffed a bit. He shook his head.

“Why would you think I would do this to you?”

“Because you get what you want, right?”

MacCready shook his head. “This isn’t what I want.”

“Then what _do_ you want?” Quinn used one arm to scratch her forehead. Her words stung at him. He’s seen her naked before, so he didn’t think she really had a reason to cover up her breasts. MacCready sighed before slipping the words he’d least be expected to say.

_“I want you to trust me.”_

Quinn wasn’t convinced by his words. However, she was convinced by his expression. He didn’t look down at her body. He looked into her eyes. One thing that she knew about Robert Joseph MacCready was that even though he was selfish, prude, crass, and had a sense of entitlement, he still found everyone he connected with to be human. He didn’t see his friends as above or below him. She felt him looking at her as a _person_ , not an _object._

That made her cry again. Quinn didn’t even notice that she forced herself to hug him. It was a long time since Quinn cried, up until that day. Before it was out of fear for him. But at that moment, it was due to her trust in him.

MacCready instantly returned the embrace. He held her small, frail body tight. He dug his head into her neck, as her arms were wrapped around his. She smelled like gunpowder and dirt. It reminded him of Lucy, in a way, how she was always quick to get her hands dirty- not in a murderous kind of way, but in a literal kind of way.

It felt like forever. When the two released themselves from their tight grasp, Quinn didn’t realize she leaned in until her lips met his cheek. Her hand was firm into his hair, as her other arm wrapped around his shoulder. He didn’t touch her below the back. He kept one hand planted firmly on the middle  as the other wrapped around it, forearm facing upwards to where his fingers were onto her shoulder bone. Quinn’s cheeks felt hot. He never realized that Quinn would have brought herself to do that.

It felt very awkward. Quinn’s heart wanted to leap out of her chest. She wanted to go in for a kiss. She took the initiative, bringing her lips to his. She didn't dig his tongue through, although things had heated. She broke it, before making her way back to the bed. She felt her bare back rest up against the cushion of the pillow. MacCready took a seat next to her. The candle light made him look so much softer than he usually was. Quinn’s body sent a mass mixture of signals, which landed her into so much confusion as he wrapped his fingers around her neck. He slightly massaged up and down, in a comforting motion. He then leaned in and returned the kiss she had made, planting his lips to her freckled and teared cheeks. “What the hell was that?” A small chuckle escaped Quinn's lips, followed by another sniff. MacCready gave his typical smug grin, before he leaned in again with a quick kiss back to her lips. “Hey, you kissed me first, right?” The mercenary then rolled over to the other side of the small bed. He remained on his side, as his right arm rested his head upwards, and his left arm made its way to the wall. Quinn instantly grabbed his left arm, before wrapping it around her waist. She had no idea what she was doing, but it felt _right_ to her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head forward. Their foreheads touched. He slid his right arm around her back. The mercenary looked her straight into the eyes. “You haven't experienced anything like this, right?” The woman shook her head. “It's got a thing to do with the 'L' word, right?”

MacCready chuckled.

“Well, yeah.”

Quinn still didn’t quite get it. She didn’t expect him to slip that he _loved_ her.

MacCready felt his heart beating so fast that it felt like it was going to rip out of its chest. He didn’t care that she was unclothed. He didn’t care that she was a complete wreck. He just wanted her to be happy and healthy… with him.

He began to poke her freckles as they twinkled through the candlelight. She had no idea what he was doing, but it was cute to her. They both had no idea how much time passed, But they both wished that the moment that they had would last forever.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's (GRE in June, Baby). I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**August, 2288**

* * *

 

It felt like hours had passed. Quinn made the first sound. She sighed. “Is everything alright?” MacCready asked in a very solemn voice. She didn’t know how to put what she wanted in the right words. She kept thinking to herself that it was a bad idea. What she wanted wasn’t what she really wanted. She would regret it later. Nonetheless, her emotions mixed up into a clusterfuck of feelings to where she tried not to think about her question.

“I do want to do it.”

“Do what?” MacCready sat up to get a look at her silhouette. The candle light dimmed.

Quinn rubbed her forehead before continuing.

“I want to have sex.”

“Why?” MacCready didn’t imagine her to actually want him to do anything to her in such an intimate way. He figured with how other men treated her in The Brothel that she would be afraid.

“I want to know what it’s like without men just completely taking advantage of me.”

MacCready sighed. He wrapped his arms around Quinn, before burying his face into her collarbone. “Karlie, I don’t know.” She understood that he wanted to be careful. However, _she didn’t know if she would see him again after that night._

“If you’re really sure, but I don’t know if you are.”

Quinn felt definite. She felt definite that she could trust him, especially in such an intimate moment. While it seemed to MacCready that with women who are abused wouldn't ask for such a thing, the level of trust that Quinn had in him was questionable. Maybe she wasn't definite mentally. She wasn't thinking straight. After all, she was under a lot of pressure and stress.

"I appreciate that you're cautious."

His eyes squinted, in a very questioning manner.

Quinn pulled him closer, her arm escorting his to her waist. She was insisting. The mercenary instantly moved his hand away, moving them back up to her shoulders.

"That's not the reason why, Karlie."

Granted, it was part of the reason. What was the true reason from those signals hitting her inner lower portion that insisted she would engage into coitus? For what appeal? Her experiences were not great- at all.

Quinn kept pressuring. Maybe she didn't think he wanted her.

The reality of it was he did. He felt those signals as well, albeit he knew that it wasn't right. He knew that she was so fragile, so vulnerable.

She pulled him into another kiss. As she grabbed the back of his head, she reached for his left hand. When she grabbed it, she moved it upwards to allow him to cup her right breast. Quinn broke the kiss, before she arched back into the mattress, down, and began to kiss MacCready’s neck. The mercenary let a small, low-pitched sigh escape his lips. Quinn pushed his torso, urging him to move to his side of the bed, before she moved on top. She brought her lips to his again. Meanwhile, she attempted to unbuckle his pouches, before tossing them to the floor. She then unzipped the bodysuit, revealing a white T-shirt. The mercenary remained cautious as to whether he really wanted her to be so vulnerable to him, especially knowing how emotionally fragile she was. Quinn gave no thought to it. She proceeded to pull the suit to MacCready’s toes, before getting up.

“Are you sure about this?” MacCready asked again, donning nothing but a white T-shirt. Quinn made her way to her pouch bag, before pulling out what looked to MacCready like a Mutfruit, judging by the silhouette.

“Robbie,” she sighed, slightly irritated. Granted, he felt ready for her. He was still just being cautious for her sake.

“Close your eyes,” Quinn implored. MacCready shrugged, before letting his lids shut. He wrapped his arms to the back of his head, before he let his left leg shift upwards to a slumped knee.

"I'm just saying that you don't seem-"

Suddenly, he felt something creep around his member. The surprise sent a jolt down his body. Suddenly, he felt the something move in an up-down motion, until he felt her lips cover his tip.

The low-pitched moan that escaped his lips sent a spark to Quinn’s head. She never felt so turned on just by one person’s moan. She imagined sucking MacCready off would be just like the other times with other men, but she figured that she was doing it on her own. She wasn’t forced. It was her decision.

_It was all her decision._

In the Brothel, Mutfruit was a necessity for the girls. When Quinn was forced to suck a guy off for the first time, the taste made her gag. However, once she was introduced to Mutfruit, it made the experience much easier.

She never found confidence in her ability, neither did she want to, that is, until the moment she heard MacCready’s heavy sighs.

She felt his body jerk a few times, before she felt his hand apply pressure to her shoulder. She didn’t realize that he was caressing her hair. He tried so hard to not pull it, knowing she probably would have not wanted it. Quinn pulled the fruit from his shaft, before wiping her lips. “You didn’t have to do that,” MacCready said in between huffs.

“I wanted to.” Quinn placed the cut mutfruit on the bureau.

"Why did you stop?"

"Sorry. Just, give me a bit of time," he said, with heavy huffs. He wanted to continue, but the desire would have died.

She saw his smug grin. She actually began to love it.

“I never knew you could do that with Mutfruit,” he said again, that time, his voice sending a chill down her spine.

He turned his head to her, before propping himself up. MacCready slowly and carefully propped Quinn against her back, as he leaned over her and began to kiss her jawline. The woman began to breathe heavily through each kiss. She then felt his tongue slick through her collarbone, all the way up to her jawline. The mercenary moved his lips down to her small breasts, before he wrapped his lips around her left nipple. Quinn jumped slightly when he began to suck. Smiling, he proceeded to the right nipple, again, causing a quick jolt. From the breast to her naval was small, slow kisses, as MacCready made his way to her belly button. His tongue slicked its way in and out, causing Quinn to release a small gasp. Her body sent so many signals to where she didn’t know what he would do next. She just wanted him as close to her possible. Hell, she wanted him _inside_ her.

MacCready inched down and stretched Quinn’s legs. He kissed her knee, which caused the woman to jump a bit. “If you’re gonna kick my teeth out, might as well do it now,” the mercenary chuckled. He went back to his kisses, as he placed one about a few inches up from her knee cap. He planted another one a few inches more, until he reached her inner thigh. In terms of pleasure, the women at The Brothel never had a man do what he was doing to her.

MacCready stretched Quinn’s legs even further. He couldn’t see much from the candle light, but he knew where he was going. The woman suddenly felt a bolt from the tip of her brain all the way down to her toes. As the mercenary began to slowly lick her bits with the flat of his tongue, Quinn instantly felt those bolts increase over and over again.

"Wait!" she called.

"Hm?"

"I didn't clean myself," she said in concerned tone. He shrugged.

"Neither did anyone else in the Wasteland, Karlie."

He continued. She’s never felt anything so amazing. Knowing his technique was working, MacCready wrapped his arms around Quinn’s legs as he went further into her core, caressing her clit with his tongue. The mercenary changed his technique over and over again, until the flat of his tongue sent the woman shivering. He continued the same technique, as Quinn felt a moan escape her lips. Each lick sent a louder moan, until Quinn began to screech in pleasure at the top of her lungs. As each moan echoed through the room like music, Quinn felt the electricity that zoomed through her body jump everywhere. She felt the stars that she saw. As her clit pulsed through MacCready’s then-slowing licks, her abdomen pulsed with it, as she arched her hips back and forth. A moan escaped MacCready as Quinn’s moans grew softer, his being longer and less forced.

The mercenary pulled his shirt off, before tossing it to the floor. He then moved on top of the woman, before kissing her on the lips yet again. “Are you really sure?” He asked one last time, before he grabbed his shaft. Quinn knew what was happening. She was sure that she wanted him even more.

“Yeah,” she said in between breaths.

MacCready inserted his shaft slowly, which caused Quinn to sigh. For the first time, it didn’t hurt. MacCready knew that before, it would have possibly hurt due to the lack of lubrication, but at that moment, she was soaking.

“Robbie,” she said in a soft tone, urging him to begin to thrust. As his thrusts became faster, his moans became louder. Quinn tried desperately to not let anymore sounds escape her mouth, but as his thrusts got harder and harder, every few seconds, MacCready had a shiver down his back every time he heard “Robbie.”

Quinn had her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer into her. He buried his face into her collarbone as his sighs grew louder. His thrusts were hard, but oh, so good. Quinn couldn’t take it anymore, as she began to let her moans get the best of her. She suddenly felt a jolt of fluid enter inside of her.

Panting, the mercenary arched his back inwards, meeting his face with Quinn’s. He caressed her cheek, before kissing her again. He planted a kiss to her forehead, before his met with hers. “I’ve never had anything like this,” Quinn said, in between huffs.

“Do you regret it?”

She chuckled, before slapping her lover on his abdomen. It didn't hurt, but the smack of the skin echoed into the room.

"You shush!"

* * *

 

Only a few hours passed before Quinn got up. She collected her belongings, before reaching into MacCready’s jumpsuit. She pulled out the key. The woman turned to the man, who was then sleeping soundly, before sighing. Tears began to well into her eyes. Wiping them and trying to suck them back into her system, Quinn made her way to the door, quietly making her way out.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's (GRE in June, Baby). I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**August, 2288**

* * *

 

A few hours of walking was enough for Quinn. She wasn’t a fan of being out in the open, but the lack of foliage left her with no choice. There was no water. Sweat drained from her pores. All the woman could think about was getting to the nearest city for some fresh, clean water.

She felt someone, or something, follow her about over half the way. She was prepared for whatever it was. She was ready. When she finally saw a shadow to confirm, Quinn turned around and drew her gun. At the moment where she almost pulled the trigger, she wanted to cry.

“You got me.” MacCready lowered his gun.

“Why are you following me?” Quinn didn’t lower hers. Her voice was shaky.

“After all that happened? Come on.”

MacCready approached the woman. He knew she wouldn’t shoot him. “You’re afraid about me taking off, but here you are desperate enough to grab the key and run.” Quinn never said anything about him leaving. However, she felt he would’ve. She figured he wanted to just sleep with her and then go. At that moment, it wasn’t the case.

“Can’t you just accept the help?” MacCready turned around to face Quinn again. He handed a small flask of what smelled like nothing he usually drank. She sighed. “Fine. If you want to help me, tell me the plan.”

“Not here.” MacCready pointed Southwest. “Arefu is just up ahead.”

* * *

 

“The place has long expanded since some trade deals went into play,” MacCready noted as the duo made their way through the gates. Shacks occupied the majority of the train tracks. Once they escorted themselves to a small empty hut, MacCready urged Quinn to remain there. “I’m just going to get some water. I’ll be back.”

A half hour passed and Quinn didn’t seem pleased by the idea that the mercenary would go around by himself. When he entered the hut, he was covered in scars and bruises. “Sorry it took longer than expected,” he said softly. “Damn Mirelurks are getting stronger in these parts. Must be the fresh water.”

Quinn took a sip. “I heard of The Capital Wasteland having clean water, but how?”

“My friend,” he said softly.

“Your mutual friend?”

“Yes. My mutual friend. He’s a scientist. He and his Dad did some work with the pumps by Jefferson Memorial. The Enclave wanted to destroy us with the FEV virus but he destroyed the vial. His best friend Fawkes went in and turned the purifier on.”

“That’s… interesting.”

MacCready arched back and wrapped his arms behind his head.

“I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it. There was a whole thing about Liberty Prime stomping out the Capital Wasteland. Sadly, I was guarding some kids and was too caught up in leading to even look.”

Quinn gave a light chuckle. She crawled over to MacCready before wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t know that she began to cry.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

Quinn gave a few moments to think of why her body considered to emit eye sweat.

“I never wanted to leave. I’m just scared.”

MacCready returned the embrace before sighing. “Hey, it’ll all be over soon. You just have to trust me.”

* * *

 

The next day, the duo crept their way through to a radioactive pond. “There they are,” Quinn said in a whisper, and pointed. Shijuku waited patiently in front of Smith Casey’s Garage, and she didn’t look at the slightest in a positive mood. “I’m gonna approach them,” Quinn quietly planned. “You stay behind and take them out.”

“’Tis my specialty, my Darling.”

Quinn slid down the hill, but not close enough to be affected by the radiated pond. She approached the garage, then stopped when Shijuku noticed her. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I can tell you miss me.”

“Oh, I sure do, Darling. Your parents miss you too.”

Quinn felt a lump in her throat. Her cheeks grew hot. “I’m here to put an end to you.”

Shijuku smirked, before scoffing. “Are you now?”

Shijuku’s men all raised their weapons, that is until one received a quick bullet to the head.

It took a moment for Shijuku to grasp the situation. After bullets began to fly, the formalities were set aside.

“She stays alive! Figure out where that came from!”

As the men began to fire out of nowhere, being taken out one-by-one, Quinn and Shijuku had their own firefight. Quinn was too angry to even see where she was aiming. She took a guy out, but not Shijuku.

Once she ran out of bullets, Quinn pulled out her knife. She quickly ran through the fire from Shijuku’s pistol before sliding to the next rock. “Whoever you hired, I’ll make sure he gets it along with your parents!” Shijuku yelled, soon throwing tear gas. Quinn tried to run from it as fast as she could. When a whiff got through her system, she stopped to gag, then received a sharp pain to the outer thigh.

The woman fell to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. Shijuku approached her, firing another shot into her arm. “I told you to bring the ring back to me!” the woman sternly said, before bending over. Getting on top of Quinn, Shijuku proceeded to wrap her fingers around Quinn’s neck.

The woman tried desperately to stab Shijuku, but the older woman caught on. She grabbed the knife, before throwing it to the pavement. Quinn struggled frantically to breathe. She tried to push Shijuku away.

Suddenly, everything went quiet. Quinn slowly felt herself losing consciousness, that is, until she heard a gunshot.

Quinn looked in horror as Shijuku's platinum blond hair stained red, slumping on top of her. Still rather disoriented and unable to hear anything, as the shot rang in her ears, Quinn crawled her way from the corpse, trying to regain her composure. In the distance, she heard “Karlie!” over and over again. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her. “Get away from me!” she yelled, in slurs. The arms grabbed her again, firm, but reassuring. Quinn tried desperately to escape, until her hearing came back, and she heard, “It’s me! It’s me!”

Quinn’s vision remained blurred from the tears. However, she knew from the silhouette that it was MacCready. “Here,” he said softly, before piercing her skin with a needle. She suddenly felt better, as the Stimpack ran through her system. “I told you they were a bunch of hogs. We took them on!”

“Mom and Dad!” Quinn quickly got up, before slamming the door open. The shop reeked of mold, and was occupied by a couple of radroaches. It was nothing like she remembered it.

“Karlie!” MacCready yelled over and over again as she made her way down the steps into the vault. “I know where I’m going!” she yelled back, before stopping in her tracks. The Vault was dark. There were flashes from the distance. Wires were scattered. MacCready grabbed a match from his pouch to provide some light. “T-This way!” Quinn yelled, pointing to the left. She ran as fast as she could, until she slammed herself up from the window.

She saw all the Tranquility Loungers, but they were all flashing.

“We have to turn the electric off!” she yelled, before running her way to a generator. Quinn grabbed a hanging steel pipe, albeit too weak to hold it. “Karlie!” MacCready yelled again, out of breath. She didn’t hear him. She was too focused on trying to turn all the electric off.

When she found a switch to the breaker, she pulled it down. The whole Vault went black. Quinn ran her way back to the lounge room, before using the pipe again to break the glass. “Come on! Help me!” she yelled, before MacCready sighed, but obliged. He jammed a loose pipe through one of the loungers, only to see its occupant burnt to the crisp. Her eyes remained shut, and she looked like she died peacefully.

“Mom…” Quinn whispered, as she approached the corpse. MacCready paused for a second, before holding the woman back. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.

Suddenly, they heard a cough come from the lounger next.

Quinn broke the glass and climed the bean. “No,” she whispered again, before attempting to pull Bernie out. MacCready reluctantly helped, and both propped him against the motherboard. “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” Quinn quietly said, tears streaming down her face. The man wearily opened his eyes. It was obvious that he was in a lot of pain.

“What happened to you, Karlie?”

He didn’t see much, but the spark from an old Lantern that MacCready happened to come across along the way was enough for him to recognize his daughter.

“Terrible things, Dad. Robbie helped me get through them. I tried so hard to get you and Mom out of here.”

Bernie looked up at MacCready. The mercenary bent to his knees, as his left arm rested on one. “We have to get you to a doctor,” Quinn frantically called, before trying to grab her father. “Karlie!” the mercenary yelled before pulling her away. “He’s not going to make it. He’s too burned up.”

Quinn looked at her Dad, as he struggled to raise his hand. Quinn grabbed it, before moving it to her cheek.

“You Mother and I missed you.”

“I know Dad. I missed you too.”

Bernie looked to MacCready. “You’ve been looking out for her?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then take care of her. Get her out of here.”

Quinn noticed that his breathing was heavier than before. It grew even heavier. “Dad!” she choked. Before he was able to go, MacCready grabbed his hand. He pulled out a small object, before placing it in between Bernie's fingers.

“Bernie, I'm sorry.”

The older man’s eyes grew wide, as he gripped MacCready’s jacket. He pulled the mercenary closer. By the time the man squeezed the other hand, that contained the small object, he was already gone.

Quinn instantly got up from her spot, tugging her hair with all she could. She kicked a nearby pipe, before falling to her knees. MacCready got up to calm her down, but instead, she fell onto the floor, curling inwards, with her hands over her face. She sobbed uncontrollably. The mercenary inched towards her, before wrapping his hand around her shoulder. He sat on the floor with her. It was cold. Quinn's sobs made him tear up.

* * *

 

"I could have prevented this," the ginger thought to herself.

Quinn went quickly to a wave of rage. She made her way up the stairs, before MacCready began to hear things shattering. He slowly got up to follow her. He shakily sighed, before taking one last look at the Wooden Toy Soldier that he left in Bernie’s hand.

“Say hello to Lucy for me.” The mercenary gave a gesture of prayer, before he walked off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's (GRE in June, Baby). I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**September, 2288**

* * *

 

“Karlie! Stop!” MacCready tried to pull the woman away from a box full of Pip-boys. After seeing her parents die, in that case, rather horrifically, Quinn went on a rampage, breaking everything in her sight. “We can use them,” he said softly, over and over, until she actually heard what he said. The Pip-boys were much older than the Mark IV model.

Quinn weakly turned the pipe, turning over to MacCready.

"Look, I know, you're upset..."

"Upset?" She dragged the pipe through the floor, her movements weary and exaggerated.

"Upset?"

She approached the mercenary, her eyes welled up. Through the dark, she was still able to make his silhouette.

"My parents are fucking dead!" She paused for a moment.

"... And it's all my fault." Her voice broke. The statement was very short, articulated.

"Karlie," he grabbed her arm, trying to pull her close to him. He wanted her full attention.

"Even if you got that ring and gave it back, she would have killed them anyways."

"I could've brought that group in. I could've killed her with them. I could've saved Mom and Dad."

"She probably would have found out and killed them ahead of time."

After she calmed down, Quinn approached the box, finally letting go of the pipe. She placed a Pip-Boy above her left hand. The glove fit through. MacCready tried his on, before messing with the buttons. “It’s not like Nate’s. It’s like James’. The buttons are on the wrong side!” Quinn nodded slowly, before switching the side of the glove, and placing it over her right hand. It seemed to have been easier to switch menus with, as MacCready did the same.

The duo slowly left Smith Casey’s Garage, before deciding on the next destination. MacCready was so eager to go home. He wanted to see if Duncan was better. Quinn groggily followed, still shaken from what happened.

* * *

 

“Hey, I got this sweet roll from Arefu.” MacCready pulled a small loaf out of his pocket. Quinn declined. She just sat on the stained mattress, staring off into space. He was instantly concerned. “Look, you’re skin and bones. You need to get healthy, Babe.” Again, Quinn refused. MacCready easily grew frustrated.

“I’m not going to tell you again."

The mercenary forced the roll into the woman’s hands. He watched her take a bite. He could hear the roll slime through her teeth, as she reluctantly ate it. He made sure she didn’t just happen to throw it on the ground for the roaches, making sure she finished the whole thing. Surely the last thing Quinn needed was a little force, albeit she was barely even in the shape to hold a pipe.

The next day, The duo happened to make their way through Big Town. Due to the help of James, it flourished into the stories that the kids in Little Lamplight told each other. As teenagers made their way from farming to trading, MacCready made a spot next to a common house before taking out the other sweet roll. “Take it,” he said again, as Quinn made a spot next to him. She didn’t feel like dealing with his attitude. She hesitantly ate the roll. The mercenary then pulled her into a hug, before saying, “Look, I just don’t want you to starve to death. You’re so skinny as is. I just want you to be healthy.” Quinn didn’t say a word. She was too caught in her own world to even return his embrace. From the stress of being in the Brothel and at that point, losing her parents, the ginger was so overwhelmed that she could barely even consider improving her own condition. Quinn was so frail, so weak, so skinny that she couldn't even match the size of most Wasteland women.

* * *

 

**October, 2288**

* * *

 

“This is it,” MacCready said shakily. The duo came up to a small three-story farmhouse. It seemed intact, but still looked worn-down like every other Wasteland home. What caught Quinn's attention, however, was the greens that surrounded the area. She then realized that the seeds that were given to her had a purpose in terms of expanding flora. MacCready approached the door. He let out a shaky sigh. His heart felt like it would leap out of his chest. Quinn was still under a lot of emotional distress from what happened the week prior. She seemed to have gained a few pounds, but due to MacCready’s force to eat. She was still frail, still small and weakened by the lack of nutrition.

When the door opened, a gasp escaped from the doorway. “You’re finally home!” a low-pitched voice called out. “Kiddo, I thought you died! You haven’t been writing to us!”

The door swung open.

“I’m sorry James. There was some business that needed to be taken care of.”

When MacCready moved to the side, Quinn was quickly greeted by a man who looked like he was in his late twenties. His young smile was covered with some stubble, but his hair looked immaculate. “You’re Miss Karlie Quinn that RJ’s been writing about in his letters?”

She didn't say a word. Quinn was too surprised to hear that he wrote about her.

“Did RJ tell you about me?”

Quinn shook her head. She could tell by the Vault Suit that he came from… Quinn squinted her eyes to notice the “101” imprinted on the suit. It was covered by a Drifter jacket. “Have you met the Sole Survivor too?” Quinn nodded.

“RJ told me that you’re a Vault Dweller,” James continued on, as the duo made their way into the house.

“He told me that you came from Vault 112. I didn’t see you down there.”

“You were there before?”

“My Dad went there for some business. I met a unique group of people. Definitely not you, or else you would’ve been dead.”

“I was locked behind some door. Well, my family and I was. It was secured for politicians and veterans.”

“Makes sense.” James made his way into the kitchen area, before pouring himself a glass of water. He urged the young woman to sit at the table. MacCready urged Quinn to give James the seed. She pulled it from her pouch, before tapping the man's shoulder. At that time, he was making beverage.

"I was told to give you this."

James took the seed, before doing a quick inspection. "You were at Oasis," he said, before cocking a smile. "This is a berry, but I'm not sure what kind. It definitely isn't Mutfruit. It would be useful though." James pulled a cracked bowl from the cabinet above, before filling said bowl with water. He placed the seed inside.

“James, where’s Duncan?” MacCready then asked, before making his way up the stairs.

“He’s in the attic.”

Before MacCready was able to run up, a small figure came dashing down the stairs. “Uncle James!” the young boy yelled. “Mushkeuts took off! He’s gone!”

“That damn cat took off again?” The boy turned around to see a familiar figure. “Daddy!” Duncan yelled, before running up to the man. Their embrace was long and sweet.

“Daddy! The needle that you gave me made me better!”

“I know, Kiddo. I know.”

“Now Mushkeuts took off! I don’t know where he went!” Before MacCready could say anything, James quickly jumped in. “I’ll find that cat,” he said softly. James adjusted his jacket.

Suddenly, the boy turned to the young woman who was making a seat at the table. His bright blue eyes stared right through Quinn. He looked almost like his father, but she definitely could tell by the dark hair that he took some of his mother.

“You’re pretty!” the boy said, before approaching the young woman. He grabbed her hand and smiled. “I’m Duncan!”

“You can call me Quinn.”

“Quinn? Is that your real name?”

Quinn gave a half-smile. Her eyes squinted to an amused expression.

“My real name’s Karlie. Quinn is my last name and my nickname.”

The boy looked at MacCready. He was very fascinated.

“So people call you by your last name like they call my Dad!”

“Sounds about right.”

Duncan gave a very wide smile. Quinn wanted to pinch his cheeks. He was missing a couple teeth, to which she assumed were making room for the adult teeth. “Would you like to see my toys, Quinn?” Duncan asked, albeit rather in a shy manner. MacCready urged her to follow him by using gestures. After a moment to sink in her decision, Quinn slowly got up from the table, as the young boy grabbed her hand. He dragged her up the stairs.

* * *

 

“The damn cat got into the tatoes again!” James yelled, as he brought a cat in. It was rather as red as a tomato. MacCready sighed. “Well, Lucy loved him, you know.” James nodded in response to the mercenary's statement. He used a small towel to clean the orange feline. “So, you said in your last letter that Quinn was going somewhere and she didn’t want you to go with.”

“Well, I can’t help it. I can’t leave her by herself.”

MacCready gave a sigh right after his statement. He rested his palms against the counter. He arched his head inwards. “She looks really sick. What happened?” MacCready was hesitant to answer. He decided to leave it at, “just some really bad business. We had to take out some pimps. She was a slave.”

“So a slave prostitute, like that girl I bought years ago.”

“That’d be her.”

“Difference is, is she a chem addict? Remember how Clover killed over from one trip of Psycho?”

“I almost kicked you out of Lamplight for that. Please don’t bring that up again.”

James ran his fingers through the wood of the countertop. He rubbed his eyes.

"RJ, you seemed to have run into a lot of issues throughout your time in the Commonwealth."

It took a small pause for the mercenary to answer.

"Just remember that this was all for Duncan."

* * *

 

“Mushkeuts likes to run off! The last time he took off, he almost got eaten by a radroach!” Duncan eagerly displayed his possessions to Quinn as she circled her way around the room. The attic was as wide as the house. A small bed was occupied against a triangular beam. The boy made a spot on the bed, urging the young woman to join him. “Would you like to see a picture of my Mommy?”

Quinn’s heart dropped.

Duncan didn’t have second thoughts when he displayed a photograph. Quinn instantly recognized two of the figures in the picture.

On the right side, was obviously MacCready. He looked the exact same. On the left was… Vadim. The bartender in Diamond City.

_MacCready’s been to The Commonwealth with Lucy?_

In the middle was a beautiful young woman, who looked as if she was in her late teens. She had dark, straight hair, definitely the same color that Duncan inherited. She looked Hispanic. The look in her eyes caused Quinn to get a lump in her throat.

“D-Do you remember your Mom?”

“No. She died when I was too little. Daddy says I didn’t even talk yet.”

The young woman began to tear when she gave the photograph back to the young boy. “Don’t cry, Quinn.” Duncan rubbed a tear with his maroon hoodie sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Kiddo. I lost my parents too.”

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am.” Duncan scooched up and wrapped his arms around Quinn.

She returned the hug. Albeit it was short lived, the hug was impacting enough to make the ginger smile.

The Mercenary made his way into the attic and witnessed the embrace. He was holding a rather red cat. He slowly walked up to the kid, before making a spot next to Quinn. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Much better! I don’t have the blue boils anymore!”

“I know. You look better.”

Quinn instantly arched her head back to where it began to lean on MacCready’s shoulder. He turned to her, before cocking a smile.

* * *

 

That night, Quinn knew that nothing was going to stop her plan. She couldn’t shake the feeling that if she kept the gang going, that her parents would have been alive. She could’ve gone to Nate for help. Instead, she pushed it off until her life was on the line.

In Big Town, Quinn sneakily bought a few hits of Jet. She hoped to end it as soon as possible. She just needed a few doses, enough to put her small body to sleep.

Quinn locked herself in the bathroom. She took a good look in the mirror. The second thoughts ate at her, but it was her plan. MacCready only delayed her, right?

She began to hear footsteps and her name. When there was no answer, the footsteps became louder, faster. A few knocks came at the door. She huffed the first hit. Time began to slow, and her head felt light. Quinn quickly fell back to the wall. The loud thud caused MacCready to yell and bang the door. “Karlie, open the door!” he yelled, over and over again. Suddenly, another set of footsteps came in. “James, help me get this door!” As the bangs of the door became louder, Quinn held the next dose. She almost inhaled when-

The door crumbled right onto her. Her legs became scratched up. MacCready instantly picked her up, and moved her right onto the large bed inside the master bedroom. She was still high, and unable to communicate. “Karlie!” he yelled, slightly slapping Quinn over and over on each cheek. Her neck went limp as her head moved back. Her eyes looked dazed. She stared straight at the wall, as his calls were muffled by the low pitch of time.

When she came to, the mercenary slapped her. She noticed that he took her doses of Jet. “No more of this! No more!” he yelled again. He began to shake her. His eyes were glossy from tears. “You’re not killing yourself, Karlie!”

She was still too dazed to even care.

A new figure was present in the room. Quinn didn’t notice her at the time. MacCready ordered the figure to watch her, as he made his way into the kitchen.

“James, you’re coming with me to Paradise Falls."

“Are you finally getting some heart, Kid?”

“Now's not the time for your sarcasm!”

MacCready reached into Quinn’s pouch, hoping she had some sort of food to put into her system. Instead, she had pills. He scattered them around the counter, before he realized what they were.

Without a second thought, he placed one into her drink and mixed it.

“Are you seriously-“

“It should keep her out while we're gone.”

MacCready brought the drink into the room, and gave it to the figure. He whispered in her ear, “she had roofies in her bag. It should keep her asleep while James and I are out.”

“RJ, are you sure?”

“Moira, nothing better happen to her. She better be asleep on this bed when I get back.”

As the mercenary barked his orders, his hand was in a gesture of pointing downwards.

Moira sighed, before giving the drink to the young woman. She was still too dazed to even know what was going on.

Within minutes, she was asleep.

“Pack up all the ammunition we can carry. The men aren’t much, but there are numbers.”

“Got it, RJ.”

The two men packed their rifles with bullets before grabbing a few Stimpacks that they stashed over the years. The men made their way towards Paradise Falls.

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

* * *

 

**October, 2288**

* * *

 

The ride to Paradise Falls was long and rocky. James, being the tinkering type, just like his father, managed to get an old APC working again. During the ride, MacCready managed to explain to James what happened in The Commonwealth, where Quinn came from, and why she was suicidal. James was still confused as to why the mercenary was so set on going to Paradise Falls, however.

“Some of Quinn’s girls are still there.”

“It’s not like you to go out of your way for a girl.”

“It’s a matter of them not finding us if there are any left over.”

“Makes sense.” James kept his eyes on the beveled pavement. He scoffed. The Lone Wanderer pursed his lips, sucking some air into his nose, before he said calmly, “I knew that you had some good in you.”

“What are you talking about? I've always had some good in me.”

“A guy who kills people for a living, and steals every once in awhile? A real law breaker? Remember when you got kicked out of Megaton?”

“Oh, yeah. I kicked that sheriff kid’s ass.”

“RJ. What I mean is have you thought about it?”

Granted, MacCready just up and left without thinking. However, what was the impulse? Was rescuing the girls that Quinn knew a way to show Duncan to care? Or was it to make Quinn happy? Granted, it wasn’t MacCready. It wasn’t for MacCready.

The duo drove up to the gate of Paradise Falls, greeted with weapons raised. James was instantly recognized. “You’re that slaver that bought those kids and Clover!” MacCready was recognized by one man, which granted both of them a way into the gates.

“What’s your business at Paradise Falls?”

“We made a business deal with er, Shijuku Samara.” MacCready tried so hard to pronounce her name. He finally got it through, with a lot of struggle. Regardless, the man nodded, before letting them through the second gate. “Take your girls, then. We were gonna kick her out anyways.” The idea that Shijuku was broke actually made sense. Perhaps that was why Quinn was sent to the Commonwealth in the first place.

The two men made their way inside. They were held up by a few guards who donned ski masks. “Buying a girl?” Before they were able to react, James pulled his glock out and landed a bullet between the one’s eyes. The other guard reached for his before MacCready kicked the man back, using Quinn’s knife to slit his neck.

With a guarantee of no more guards, the men grabbed around sixty girls. The oldest looked no more than twenty-five. The youngest was donned in a robe and looked as if she was sixteen.

The guards helped the men put the girls in the backs of the trucks. Before they took off, one asked if he could keep one.

MacCready got in the truck. As they pulled out, he shot the slaver in the back.

The travel back was long, but luckily the night was cold. It would have been unbearable for the girls to travel in the heat, huddled in one truck.

In the middle of the road, the men heard a few girls scream, before cries and more screams came from the back. The truck was sent to a halt. The men made their way to the back, finding at least three to four girls dead. Despite they were able to fit all the girls in, on the way back, around twenty had already died from malnutrition and shock.

* * *

 

Quinn slowly opened her eyes to see a middle-aged woman sitting in a Victorian chair in front of her. “Quinn right?” The ginger, in response, clutched the blanket even tighter, bringing it above her mouth. “I’m a friend of RJ’s. I’m Moira.” Moira soon got up from the chair. She gave the younger woman a full glass of water. “RJ and James will be back. Duncan’s been aching to see you.” Besides the older woman was the young boy, who was just about as tall as the bed. “Are you doing alright, Miss Quinn? Daddy seemed worried about you.” The ginger then propped herself to where the headboard supported her back. The boy crawled in bed with his cat. “Mushkeuts wants to see you too!” he excitedly called, before allowing Quinn to pet the orange cat. The young woman held the cat close. It was friendly enough to cuddle back.

The front door slammed open. James ran into the room, escorting Moira out. MacCready followed behind. “Karlie, you have to come out. We’re going to the Commonwealth.”

“Back? Why?”

"Look outside!"

Quinn quickly sprang from the bed. She didn't notice that she was donned in a long bed gown that soaked with the mud as she sprang outside. She approached the APC truck. Inside were around forty girls. “Twenty died on the way back,” MacCready said softly. Meanwhile, James escorted Duncan and Mushkeuts into the cockpit. “Robbie, how did you-“

“Just convinced those dumb slavers that we bought The Brothel. We’re taking them to the Minutemen.”

Quinn couldn’t keep looking. Surprised, yes. Appreciative, definitely. But the picture of the women crowded in the back was very haunting. The mercenary escorted her into the cockpit. Everything happened too fast. She blankly stared into space, as the cat slowly snuggled into her arms. She had no idea what brought MacCready to recklessly go in with just one other person, and save as many slaves as he did.

* * *

 “Nate, we need someone to take control in Diamond City!”

“Piper, the man’s got his own worries. He can’t run The Minutemen and become mayor.”

“Well, at least he can point us in the right direction, Nick!”

A meeting was established between Nate’s finest companions and himself. He figured they needed his help. He didn’t expect them to propose a mayoral position.

Suddenly, the door to his living room slammed open. A familiar figure regained his breath as he walked in. “Nate,” the figure started. “You have to come with me!”

“MacCready! It’s been awhile.”

“We don't have time. Please! Come with me!”

The four raced to the bridge of sanctuary. MacCready remained ahead as a guide. They sped past the rocks, up until they noticed an APC truck at Red Rocket. Nate instantly recognized Quinn, who was smoking a cigarette next to the truck. “Robbie,” she started. “I didn’t think Nick and Piper would be here too.”

“Surely,” Piper replied.

Nate remained disoriented at the truck. “Quinn, what’s going on. Why were you two gone for so long?”

Quinn twiddled her thumbs. James approached from outside the vehicle. Nate grew curious of the Vault Suit. “You were from Vault 101?”

“Surely. You were from Vault 111?”

“That’s funny.”

As the two men began to converse, Quinn and MacCready both opened the hatch. Their conversation was cut very short. Piper gasped, before stepping back. In the truck, remained only fourteen girls.

“We rescued them from the Capital Wasteland,” MacCready said softly. “Can you help them?”

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	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I haven't typed up a fanfiction in years. I've been too busy with college, considering I'm steps away from my Bachelor's and soon on to my Master's. I'm a little rough on the writing, so apologies if it's rather, er, too fast-paced.**

**I’ve made a story synopsis on Tumblr so if you’re up to knowing what goes down, it’s there. This is just a more detailed version of Quinn’s story.**

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**2288**

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"Why can't you just let me go?"

A small argument echoed through a torn up Lustron home in Sanctuary. It had only been a couple of hours since a group of girls had been brought in and nursed to health by a curious and intelligent synth. The wind was a complementary addition to the hot air that pulsated onto everyone's skin.

Quinn was confused as to how everything happened over the span of a day. She remembered waking up in a large bed, only to be placed into a truck, and driven to The Commonwealth. She was at least relieved that her friends were safe.

She just didn't want to keep fighting.

MacCready crossed his arms. He looked down. His right leg held his upper body weight as his left was stretched onto the ground, firmly planted. It hurt to see that Quinn wasn't showing appreciation for taking out The Brothel... for wiping it off the map.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his efforts. She appreciated them greatly. For over a year, Quinn was released from her lounger. She had dealt with constant rape. She was sold to numerous men, against her will. She lost her parents. Everything that happened up to the point where the two stood, face-to-face, had been a fight. She was tired. She was weak, frail.

MacCready was the only person who didn't give up on her. What did he see in the scarred ginger?

She was neurotic. She was fragile. If it weren't for the gun in her holster, she would have easily been overpowered. When he saw her, the last thing he figured that she wanted was human contact. However, that night, weeks before, he felt she was irrational. She had no idea what she wanted. A wave of guilt fell on the mercenary's shoulders. He felt wrong for doing everything he did up to that point. However, there was no question as to why he did it. He cared for the young woman. He cared to no extent.

She looked into his eyes. Her hazel irises were glossed from tears.

"I told you awhile back, do I have to say it again?" He stammered.

Quinn had no experience to having someone look at her in such a way. She didn't know what it felt like to be looked at in a romantic fashion. She ached for it, no doubt.

_She was just tired._

"Karlie," the mercenary muttered through his lips.

She looked at him.

"I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

She crossed her arms, before looking down. Her shoulders were tense, reaching up to the middle of her neck.

After a sigh, she nodded.

"Give me a reason first. Why, out of all people in this freaking wasteland, do  _you_ care?"

He paused for a moment. Finding the right words was complicated.

"You tricked me into helping your son instead of asking me."

"You were too drunk to even blink. You think I'm going to ask a drunk person?"

She paused, before turning her head to the side.

"I don't know, Karlie. I really don't know. I mean, you annoyed the crap out of me before."

"You're annoying me right now."

MacCready chuckled. Quinn began to chuckle in return.

After a pause, they both smiled at each other.

"I guess it's that piggy nose and freckles that attract me."

Quinn smiled, before blushing. She approached him, before leaning against the wall. Her arms remained crossed.

"Karlie, you've had a lot on your shoulders. I mean, we all do, but, I mean, after seeing what happened to you..."

He stammered in his sentence. He paused again.

"I wanted to know who you were. I don't know why. I usually don't concern myself with people, but you hired mercenaries hoping to accomplish something big. That's what sparked my curiosity. You grew the balls to hire help. You went against that scum's word, and while you screwed up, and had them depart, well, you still had me."

Quinn sighed.

"I couldn't have done it without you."

The mercenary smiled. He pulled out a cigarette.

"Mind if I have a match?" he asked her.

She obliged.

They began to crowd onto the broken window, looking into Sanctuary, sharing a cigarette. Quinn began to feel enlightened, having actually listened to the mercenary who sat beside her.

"Karlie," he began softly.

She brought the stick to her mouth.

"I hope from now on you're considering on starting over rather than giving up."

She smiled. She began to scratch at her freckled cheeks, before handing the cigarette back to MacCready.

"I think I've got someone to help me with that."

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